Although I thought Our Glorious Leader did better tonight, there were still some problems with chemistry. Sure, He didn't look so drunk this time. Instead, He looked the opposite, too stimulated. He was a writhing mass of tics and blinks, and He frequently shot out of his chair like a Halliburton executive going for a dropped nickel.
At one point, I noticed a pattern to his rapid blinking. It was morse code. I became more and more concerned as I deciphered each letter; "T-O-O--M-U-C-H--M-E-T-H-!" Clearly, it was a cry for help, but no one noticed. Thank God it was just the paranoia associated with meth abuse. Otherwise, Deputy Leader Dick would be taking the oath right now.
I knew it was a mistake for the campaign to hire Elvis' physician, Dr. Nick. Maybe now, they'll take my advice and make Rush responsible for maintaining Our Leader's chemical balance. He's had a lot of personal experience getting it just right.
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We'll try dumping haloscan and see how it works.