Your One True Misanthrope is in Denver, bringing you all the TMI, NSA, and WTF issuing from the DNC like the smell of forced unity. Which happens to smell a lot like burnt Spaghettios.

2:45: there are a lot of old-lady boobs in attendance. We’re talking massive, sagging, heaving, pendulous old-people boobs. It’s really quite stunning. You’d think they were filming an episode of Real Sex or something.

The mid-day, or liquid lunch portion of the DNC kicked off at 3:00EST, with a few words from DNC chairman and possibly an even more bitter Democrat than either of the Clintons, Howard Dean. Seriously, it’s got to be like sucking on the world’s biggest shit sandwich when you find out that one over-exuberant, Ric Flair-like “whoo!” was enough to send your political career into the shitter. He looked good, though. Apparently Dean went on the Jenny Craig diet. And he seemed to suffer from a bout of spray-on tanorexia as well.

The DNC house band is possibly the lamest thing to ever happen to music, presidential politics, or the state of Colorado. It kind of seems that one of the grand poobahs of the DNC really really REALLY likes beach music. You know, that crap they play on the oldies stations on the weekends – the crap that old dads like. By late afternoon, they were starting to sound like the world’s worst wedding band. We half-expected to hear someone start singing “Reunited”.

Also it has to be said that the Democratic Party, by and large, is made up of some heinously ugly people. And they seemed to really enjoy the beach music. So, if you’re here, and scanning through Casual Encounters for a little NSA caucusing, all we can say is Buyer Beware – there be fuglies here.

By 6:00, no one could find Jim Webb’s pants.

6:15: one of the older, heavier fuglies (decked out in pill-box hat and pink flamingo sunglasses) was seen running laps around the floor carrying a pair of men’s trousers.

Nancy Pelosi kicked off the prime-time festivities by doing a Mary Catherine Gallagheresque routine of sticking two fingers in her twat and smelling them, which is far more than what she’s accomplished over the last two years. She once again reiterated that impeachment is off the table. Fortunately, the revelers were still punch-drunk from the FOUR GODDAMNED HOURS OF BEACH MUSIC, and as such, weren’t really paying attention.

And after Pelosi sucked all the life from the room, whoda thunk it’d be the Great Old Lion to bring it all back? A robust (even by his standards) Senator Ted Kennedy took to the stage, and we braced ourselves for the involuntary shedding of man-tears. But Teddy wasn’t feeling particularly morose, or even reflective for that matter – the stodgy old guy was actually pledging to be on the Senate floor in January. What’s more, he seemed to believe it himself. We hope he got him some of Denver’s most magnificent trim last night.

In the That’s Not Funny department, rumors began swirling about a possible assassination attempt on Sen. Obama. Foiled by a routine traffic stop. Way to go, Secret Service! On second thought, there is one small bit of funny to be had in this – if you’ve seen the pictures of the suspects, doesn’t the guy with bleached-blond hair look an awful lot like professional wrestler Lex Luger? And the other guy looks like a 3-D version of Cletus from The Simpsons.

But the star attraction last night was undoubtedly the fist-bumpin’, ain’t –no-baby-mommaing, MILFaliciousness that is Michelle Obama, sporting a hairstyle that can only be termed as ‘Oprahesque’. Oh, and her speech? Nailed it. At least, that’s what I’m told. I kept trying to sneak around to either side of the stage to get a better view of her ass. And then the kids came out and everybody was cute, and that just neutered my MILF-buzz right then and there.

Then they started playing more beach music and threatened to start praying, and we got ourselves the hell outta there.

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