I once had a keen interest in politics. That was before I became Groucho-Marxist. When I was a political animal I learned the people I associated with, criminals all, were representative of my whole province's political leanings. If most of the people I knew said, "He's an asshole," or, "Those motherfuckers can all suck the big one," about a politician or political party I could be sure their chances of winning were on par with the Canucks' in this or any other year.
If I still talked politics to those people, I would have a good idea about whether Donna Cadman's chances of winning her late husband's seat in the ongoing election to decide who we can blame for our problems in the next Parliament of Canada are good or not. People know I do not vote and have not voted for decades so they do not bring up politics with me very often. Out of fucking touch and proud of it I am. Just the same, I figure Donna Cadman will become the second Cadman to represent Sliverville's north end in Ottawa. Donna does not have the handicap Hillary Clinton had to deal with recently as she tried the same feat on a somewhat larger scale: a living husband with more talent in his pecker than she has in her night stand.