Poll dancing, against the wind and getting canned
Interesting fact: Now, amidst our current zeitgeist, I feel I understand @nihilist_arbys on a truly cellular level. This is my salute. Not that it matters.

Dear Rachel,

I’ve read all the pundits, watched all the anchors, read all the summaries of all the polls. I’ve concluded that no one knows what is going to happen. So I might as well ask the woman who has never yet led me astray. What’s going to happen with the election, Rachel? What are your last-minute predictions and prognostications?

– Poll Watcher

Dear Pole Voyeur,

Oh, the poop is going to hit the fan. The only thing the election is going to tell us is which direction we can expect the poop to fly. If it’s any consolation, all empires fall eventually, and all species become extinct, and anything we accomplish before our extinction will be decomposed to constituent sub-atomic particles when our sun eventually goes supernova. So go ahead. Order an extra Beef & Cheddar while your meaningless life runs its course.

– Eat Arby’s, Rachel

Dear Rachel,

Why does wind drive me more insane than all other forms of weather? You could sleet me down to my socks or roast me up to my eyeballs. I might be uncomfortable, but I’m still human. But dial up that air flow to 20 mph or throw in some high-speed gusts, and I turn into the mystery character in a Dickens novel who, I don’t know, peels off her own skin and torments neighbor children. I need to learn how to cope. Can you help?

– Gale Force Bonkers

Dear Windswept,

You sound more like a Shirley Jackson character than a Dickensian one. Though I know what you mean. Some of his supporting characters are off. the. hook. Haven’t read Shirley Jackson? Get thee to a nunnery! Or, better yet, a bookstore. In just minutes, you could sound more educated about lit’chure than I do. I used to care, but why bother? All human accomplishments are mere ephemera. Gone faster than a hot, fresh curly fry dipped in our special signature barbecue sauce. Enjoy.

– Eat More Arby’s, Rachel 

Dear Rachel,

I’m trying to be money-savvy and homesteader-talented. Partly because of the pandemic, partly just because it feels manly to have all kinds of skills, partly because ladies find that sexxxy. So I bought a pie pumpkin to make pumpkin puree to make pumpkin pancakes. They were delicious. But I did the math, and besides costing me an hour, that puree cost more money than the equivalent two cans of Libby’s. People say “down with capitalism,” but how can I argue with results?

– Pumpkin Can-Can

Dear Squash Mash,

You can’t. You can’t argue. Time is meaningless, yet it is also precious, and we must each choose how to spend what is allotted to us. If you choose to puree pumpkins, do it with all your heart. If that makes you less than happy, buy Libby’s and free yourself to climb mountains, run with bulls, read books. Run for president. It’s true that anyone can hold that highest office in the land. It’s also true that anyone can dream of five for $5 specials, but those days are gone. Thank god you’re eating real food.

– Bon appetit, Rachel