The commander released us an hour early to vote. I drove straight over to my polling station, a little country school about ten miles from the house.
One of the polling station officers is a little old lady who lives just up the road from me. It was satisfying to hand her my Concealed Carry license and recite my name, DOB, and address for her (Kansas has a new Voter ID law). She looked at my license and said, "I didn't know your first name was
<redacted>."
I savored each vote, knowing the wailing and gnashing of teeth it would produce among the DUmbasses. I look forward to tasting their tears. Mmmmm.... DUmmy tears are so yummy and sweet to me. The bitterness gives them a little "zing".