Bittersweet Times abound every day in a tense apologia. Each American citizen tunes into a program collaborating with the election. Bombarding our brains with watts full of political drama. Names change to rouge officials when off-message speeches defend Gucci stockings. Bolstering wardrobes in languages far too extravagant for Joe the plumber to read. Italian gowns help to deliver the message of legislative chastisement. Racial lines draw and polls measure the fluctuations.

The time ticks on our economic dollar signs. Seconds worth thousands of dollars from taxpayers funneling precisely now out of the Federal Reserve. The silver lock has been picked; unloading credit to the bank. Where’s the unity of understanding for the beast made from cannibals? Credit crisis created by us. Now destined to erode away our own infrastructure, which we purchased with false satisfaction.

Restless action has begun since our election of the Texan. President Bush resounded homesteads with an action. Depicting our fear to us from a podium we became entranced as county. Needless to express on a core level, each American feels cheated.

8 years of misled advice from the President does make us angry. Not in an angry sense but almost as if your friend had cheated at Monopoly. He bought boardwalk and every time you rolled the dice $200 dollars left your pocket. He laughed when you had to pay and you eventually just shoved him or punched him in the shoulder. Well with President Bush you may only see him on TV. So just restrain and be angry on the inside. Lets stay bittersweet, happy he’s gone but mad you may never get to punch him.