tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4435744546679351316.post-32597404315388261432008-04-23T01:36:00.000-04:002008-04-23T14:41:37.628-04:002008-04-23T14:41:37.628-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1pINz6H54Ys/SA-Cq1LTLVI/AAAAAAAAAEg/UHvs0tK98Nw/s1600-h/indiana4.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1pINz6H54Ys/SA-Cq1LTLVI/AAAAAAAAAEg/UHvs0tK98Nw/s400/indiana4.gif" border="0" alt="Indiana" title="Indiana, do you believe in love at first sight?" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192512567722061138" /></a><br /><br />Hey there, Indiana.<br /><br />Now, don't be offended, but I had to look you up. Yes... I'm one of those Elitists. I'm sorry, but as far as I'm concerned, you're not a state until Sufjan Stevens dedicates an album to you.<br /><br />You're looking good today, by the way.<br /><br />Actually, the reason I'm here is that it's your turn soon, and I need you to vote for Obama. I'm blunt, I know, and this is unacceptable, especially on a first date. But I can't take it anymore. I can't take the games and the lies and the pandering and the bowling and the drinking and the gun holding and the stupid debates and Chris Matthews hates women, I know, but let's move on, and the ads with Osama and the singing celebrities, oh, please no more singing celebrities.<br /><br />Pennsylvania messed up. No big deal. You can do better, Indiana. Indy.<br /><br />How funny is it... I've only known you for half-an-hour, but I really feel a connection. Do you feel what I feel, Indiana?OMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06473298272771049857noreply@blogger.com