As many of you have observed, this election has been an emotional one for old Sethro. It has caused me to lose sleep, drink too much coffee, talk... nay, yell to myself with raised hands while imagining that I'm hollering away at Chris Matthews on his cursed show. And worst of all, the Obiased media in this election made sweet tea lose its precious savor. Darn them. Darn them to heck. May the fleas of a thousand camels infest every place on their body where the sun doth not shine.
So, my friends, I have moved on. (Kinda.) Moved on enough to maintain a normal heart rate and blood pressure.
For, my friends, there are more important things in the world to discuss. Things that make a difference in people's lives. Things that move us, things that challenge us, make us dream. Things like... Yes, yes. You may finish my sentence. Things like... Beyonce Knowles's's's's new name.
Ladies and gentlemen, after pining for hours uncounted, and crying-out as I watched, over and over, the Youtube clips of Beyonce's underrated-Jennifer-Hudson-eclipsed Dreamgirls performance, "PLEASE, BEYONCE... PLEASE, ANOTHER NAME! YOUR TALENT... YOUR ACTING... they're. just. too. FIERCE!!!!!"
And as if I was Bastien screaming from the upper room of an abandoned school building, into the stormy night, after eating a WHOLE apple... to save all of Fantasia,
Sasha Fierce was born. Falcor, the Rockbiter and the rest of the Dirty South gang can dream again anew.
You're welcome. Take a moment to watch this as you meditate upon the name of:
Fierccccccccce (cue echo and wind chimes)