Wonkette Answers: No News At The Inn

10:45 p.m.


More reader mail:

Parked in front of my digital cable. I see the countdowns, the estimated electoral votes, the giant map of red and blue states painted on the ice of Rockefeller Center. I'm on my second gin and tonic already...I think my limit is 8, but may exceed this. When will the ball drop? When will the referees call an end to extra innings? Oh, Wonkette--when will I be free?

So glad you asked. I am in a similar situation, trapped in under the skating rink-cum-electoral map in a sort of faux Le Courbusier living room set which probably cost thousands of dollars and won't be seen again. (Imagine the votes that could have bought!) They will not let me leave. I am missing the Daily Show special and the producer laughed when I asked for a beer.

I arrived at 1:30PM. You could smell the democracy in the air. Like springtime but politics. And, underneath, the faint scent of horse manure.

Since then, we have been on TV twice, for a total of about six minutes. I have also eaten dinner twice. I have posted some and spent a long time examining Joe Trippi's plaid jacket. The gentleman on our left can be relied on to announce returns at, oh, 30 second intervals. (It's kind of like listening to the World News Service, only with a Minnesota accent.)

In short: I am sitting in the middle of a world-wide news organization's headquarters, and there is no news.

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