Well, there is no joy in Mudville this morning. The mighty Chiefs were defeated. Hell, they were just plain routed! I blame the orange baboon’s chef’s kiss before game time. There is a maxim about what happens to everything that he touches. A maxim that was proved true yet again. Meanwhile, in the rival city of brotherly love, it was party down time. There Kat Flandermeyer‬ compiled a transcript of highlights from last night’s Philly police scanner. You had to laugh, because otherwise you might cry. Between rotating DJs and civilian horses rearing, it was a night of pure chaos. An example of what we as a country have to look forward to in the next four years. We are headed to an America where urban cowboys cannot take their civilian horses out for a ride.

There is currently an undetermined number of DJs, at least two, perhaps three, they are rotating—Large, LARGE crowd coming—The barricades are falling— “We have too many we keep losing the barricades” is being repeated with increasing levels of panic lol—I DONT EVEN KNOW IF THE CREW CAN MAKE IT THROUGH THE PEOPLE TO GET THE DJ—We lost the barricade at chestnut. We lost a lot right now! —I keep hearing “we can start clearing the crowd out” as if that is an attainable goal— “Uh, this is an estimate but I got no less than 5000 people heading your way” “Uh… thanks” — “Broad and Locust is lost” Like this, is the zombie apocalypse—I’ve been avoiding the medic calls but broad and walnut just got a second “man down in his alcohol” —Disregard second man, he has apparently gotten up out of his alcohol and continued partying—we have a man with a boombox who keeps poking out of a store, “keep an eye on him” — “I got about thirty people on top of a trash truck” I NEED to see this—I now have seven or eight people on horses, the fireworks are spooking them and they’re rearing up… they’re civilian horses.