There I was walking down Agricola on a windy night when...boom. A sign, my hand, and then my thigh. The next few moments were filled with pain and shock. What was that object that just slashed open my hand and smacked my thigh? As I turned my head and watched it blow away, I realized exactly what it was: An election sign. For which candidate? Only the wind knows. Alas, I still know not of whose ballet I shall not cast, but one thing is for certain…I am going to have a bruise. Dear candidates, please secure your signs. Love, my thigh.
PS: I am voting for Gary anyway. —A lover, not a hater