Slate has a live-blog.

The Metafilter election thread is my jam. So much schadenfreude there.

meanwhile his base? mad at everyone releasing statements against him. Heckled Ryan at event today. He really brought out the grossness we all knew was there, but was just not so out in the open everyday to all of us. kudos.

In other news, the NYT Watching newsletter had a bit about this new CW show, No Tomorrow, so I just watched the pilot, and it's cute! Dumb, and possibly will become terrible, but cute so far. It's about a woman who meets a guy who thinks the world is going to end so he's doing his bucket list.

I just had a beautiful, beautiful dream in which Graydon Carter, sitting in the Vanity Fair editorial offices scrolling through his Twitter feed, calls Paul Rudnick, and says, "It's time to get the band back together. We're resurrecting Spy for one last election-time hurrah. We're going to tear that short-fingered vulgarian a majestic panoply of new assholes, for old time's sake."

And the Internet is scheduled to move to the new place. Now it's just the packing. And trying to stop bracing for the implosion of all my plans and dreams.

It's so exciting, Connie!

Did it work? She asks having never successfully caught anything with a net that wasn't already caught on a line. I'm all about opening the windows and trying to herd.

It was all very strange, hilarious and especially improbable. Facilities Guy poked his head into my office sometime late morning and asked if I had a butterfly net. Um...no. He explained that there was a sparrow in the 2nd floor green room and he couldn't figure out how to catch it. (There is no simple path to an outside door, so shooing seemed highly unlikely). Later, I took my lunch down to the riverwalk and saw these two guys fishing under the State Street bridge. Now, I've seen some people fishing along the lake, but the river really is not clean enough to be a food source so this is a bit unusual. Anyway, after watching them while I ate my bao I decided it couldn't hurt to ask if I could borrow the net. They were agreeable and I told them where I worked if they needed to come claim it before I returned it. I got some funny looks carrying this huge net down State Street and the guy at the front desk thought it was hilarious. Facilities Guy took the net and spent the next 2-3 hours trying to catch the bird. When there was a shift change at the front desk, the woman who just came in apparently told a story about catching a bat to which frustrated Facilities Guy responded with a challenge. She then walked right up to the bird, picked it up in her bare hands and carried it outside. Shortly after that the fishermen came by and re-claimed their net.

I just had a beautiful, beautiful dream in which Graydon Carter, sitting in the Vanity Fair editorial offices scrolling through his Twitter feed, calls Paul Rudnick, and says, "It's time to get the band back together.

JZ, I don't know if you listen to On the Media, but they had a great short segment recently where they got a bunch of the old Spy folks together for a chat. Very amusing.

I'm arguing about Trump with a high school friend of my mother's. I should not be doing this.

JZ, I don't know if you listen to On the Media, but they had a great short segment recently where they got a bunch of the old Spy folks together for a chat. Very amusing.

I don't often, but I'll have to hunt this down! All through the 90s, Spy (along with the catastrophe of the Central Park 5 trial) was almost the only reason a left-coaster like me had any idea who Trump was.