According to CNN, Donald Trump asked Mike Pence to be his running mate early Thursday evening and Pence accepted, but (as the Indiana governor is surely learning) even the clearest decision is always up for negotiation to Trump. Just hours later, the candidate told Fox News he has yet to make up his mind about who he’s taking to the election, saying, “I’ve got three people that are fantastic” and “I haven’t made my final, final decision.”

Late Wednesday night, The New York Times published a tentative schedule for speakers at next week’s Republican National Convention that included former NFL quarterback Tim Tebow, UFC President Dana White, Silicon Valley billionaire Peter Thiel, Donald Trump’s wife Melania and all of his adult children.

As next week’s Republican National Convention approaches, officials in Cleveland continue to field questions about what firearms attendees can openly carry (only real ones) and where they can carry them (only outside the convention hall), but, so far, the liberal media has failed to grill the powers that be about a much purer symbol American liberty: the humble e-cigarette.

On Wednesday, the hacker or hackers using the name “Guccifer 2.0” released a new batch of files alleged stolen from the Democratic National Committee detailing plans for a “counter convention” to be held in Cleveland during the Republican National Convention next month, The Hill reports.

According to Bloomberg, Donald Trump’s advisors are currently working to get former heavyweight champion and current registered sex offender Mike Tyson to appear at next month’s Republican National Convention in Cleveland.

While regular-sized Mitt Romney stood inside the Tampa Bay Times Forum, telling regular-sized fables, his 40-foot-high head boomed from the side of a parking garage. The image called for blood-red banners and black bunting, for Dwight Schrute pounding the podium and yelling, "BLOOD ALONE MOVES THE WHEELS OF HISTORY." Instead, Mitt pulled an awkward smile, wincing and unconvincing, unctuously excusing himself into our hearts—the Jim Halpert of the annals American politics.

Goodbye, Tampa. I'm leaving you. When I think back on our time together, I will always remember the immortal words of ODB:

REPORTING LIVE FROM THE TAMPA CONVENTION CENTER'S RADIO ROW—Just moments ago, the political world's axis tilted directly towards the second floor of the Tampa Convention Center, near the back doors, where onetime pizza restaurateur Herman Cain delivered a scorching call for truth to the assembled voracious media scrum.

To watch America's most treasured political theater play out firsthand is to come to understand that this is not about real things that happen in the world outside of television boxes and the mouths of anointed leaders. This is a mass indulgence of the faithful in the collective ecstasy of their faith. As an act of cognitive dissonance, the speeches of the Republican convention were breathtaking in their boldness.

There is an official Romney/ Ryan souvenir store in the Tampa Bay Times Forum, where the convention is being held. It's a store that would normally be selling Tampa Bay Lightning shirts and whatnot, but now it's selling souvenirs to people with poor taste who may not even like hockey.

The Republican Convention isn't all "inside baseball" and "delegates" and "wandering around inside prison-style fencing in search of meaning." It's also about venturing out to see "the real Tampa." Sometimes, you have to get out of your chair, go "outside the wire," and take in a screening of a haranguing right wing documentary with an unmistakably karmic ending.

Yesterday the Ron Paul rEVOLution was thrown out in the gutter, alongside the storm-bathed protesters carrying 99% signs. Thanks to the RNC's backroom rules changes, the good doctor's delegates were not seated. Supporters' chants of "point of order!" from the convention floor failed to incite a floor fight. Their overwhelming "nay" vote on the rules changes went ignored by John Boehner (R-Leatherette), who gaveled the faint "ayes" into the record books.

Pretty much any asshole can get some kind of credential to get into a political convention; a look at the press room can tell you that. It's a low bar. Which is not to say that the RNC organizers are fools.

At times, as circumstances dictate, we will cover the 2012 Republican National Convention in the style of noted New York Times columnist Thomas Friedman. The following reporting is 100% real:

You can't really appreciate the extent to which politicians are actors until you're seated in a shitty press seat at a political convention that does not give you a direct view of the stage, but which does give you a view of a huge TV screen showing the politician speak and, simultaneously, a view of the teleprompter from which they're reading. In this position, every dramatic pause, every glowing smile, every instance of pointy-finger and raised voice and shaken head can be seen for what it really is: an actor, reading lines, trying to get the part.

In a fit of Oprah-channeling enthusiasm, Ann Romney went off-script tonight and told the RNC crowd "I love you, womennnnn." And I bet that's true. Of course, she didn't mention this, this, this, or this, but it's a long campaign season; I'm sure she'll get around to it eventually.

The sensible and not-at-all xenophobic and/or racist GOP Convention attendees welcomed the delegate from Puerto Rico with boos and shouts of "USA!" The "lady from Puerto Rico," as RNC Chairman Reince Priebus put it, tried to join in on the "USA!" chant to no avail. It seems like the GOP's "overtures to women and Latinos," a supposed centerpiece of the convention in Tampa, is going just as planned.

If you don't know where you're going at the Republican National Convention, one of the things you notice first is that nobody else does either. The upside of this is that, once beyond the security cordon, you can do pretty much whatever you want, in an event surrounded by federal agents. The downside is that it's chaos.

Celebration time: Day-Two-Which-Is-Actually-Day-One of the Republican Convention is now, as we speak (type), UNDERWAY in Tampa, a hot parking lot located in a swing state. We can assure you that our investigations have revealed that absolutely no one, including those in official capacities, know where the fuck they are supposed to go right now. Here are a few of the most crucial "insider" factoids that you will need to know about this vital U.S. political institution going forward:

Whatever ugliness might later emanate from the Tampa Bay Times Forum, there's no escaping that, for now, its interior is stunning. The much-mocked array of LED screens, bordered in hardwoods meant meant to evoke America's living room, create a captivating depth of field behind the podium. Textured images split amongst them feel like looking at panels of an American tapestry, which is precisely the intended effect.