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Hillary Clinton Regrets "Cock-Smoking" Gandhi JokeJanuary 19, 2004 |
Saint Louis, MO Alton Onus Sen. Clinton, delivering her "It takes two hands to give Bush the bird, but it's worth it" show-stopper
Clinton's bizarre comments came while speaking in support of Senate candidate Nancy Farmer. The former first lady introduced the aspiring senator to the fund-raiser crowd with a comparison to Gandhi, suggesting that both had blown more men than the A-bomb. The stunned silence of the room turned to nervous laughter when the former first lady followed her comment with an explana...
en. Hillary Rodham Clinton apologized this week for referring to Indian leader Mahatma Gandhi as a "cock-smoking son of a bitch" in a speech at a Democratic fund-raiser earlier in the month. Insisting the statement was taken out of context, the former first lady explained that she was merely attempting to liven up her speech by making humorous reference to the deceased leader's man-pleasing proclivities.
Clinton's bizarre comments came while speaking in support of Senate candidate Nancy Farmer. The former first lady introduced the aspiring senator to the fund-raiser crowd with a comparison to Gandhi, suggesting that both had blown more men than the A-bomb. The stunned silence of the room turned to nervous laughter when the former first lady followed her comment with an explanatory "blow job" facial expression using her tongue and cheek.
The resultant public outcry once newspapers picked up on the story led to a prompt public retraction from the New York senator.
"Mahatma Gandhi was a great man, and I sincerely apologize if I ever gave any indication to the contrary," Sen. Clinton stated in apology. "He was a true gift to humanity."
"You can ask anybody whose choad he smoked," added Clinton after a brief pause.
The outrage incensed by Clinton's previous statements flared up like a gas-soaked Buddhist monk when word of her apology hit the street.
"I'm visibly offended," blustered Tonight Show joke writer George Mattson. "Everybody knows Gandhi material is my thing. If she thinks she can horn in on my comedic territory, she's got another thing coming. I've got years worth of 'Damn, Chelsea Ugly' jokes saved up. Years. Also I've also been meaning to say that Hillary looks suspiciously like she should be Bill's mother. Now I'm going to say it."
"Hillary has been trying to inject humor into her public persona lately," explained publicist Aria Hershberg. "She's understandably tired of coming off as the prototypical lesbian stuffed shirt in mannish shoes, and who can blame her? Just play along, trust me. She's still new at this and it can take a while for an adult to develop a personality belatedly, just give her a little time. And actually I thought the thing she said about the giraffe's gynecologist was kind of funny. Maybe you had to be there."
Displaying a unique talent for shoveling shit straight into an oncoming hurricane, Sen. Clinton has dug herself deeper with each successive quote following the incident.
"Listen, listen, I have admired the work and life of Mahatma Gandhi and have spoken publicly about that many times," explained Clinton at a recent charity dinner. "What I said the other day was just a lame attempt at humor. I sincerely apologize for suggesting the honorable Mahatma Gandhi would tongue your balls for a dollar."
After a relieved sigh from diners, Clinton continued. "What I should have said was 'Mahatma Gandhi's mama so ugly she could knock the dot off a Hindu at twenty paces!'"
In spite of recent public relations setbacks, Clinton's attempts at developing a sense of humor show no signs of flagging. In the last week, Sen. Clinton has spoken out in support of legislation "to make math easier for retards" and has gone public with the incredibly dated quip that "the next time I see Michael Gorbachev, I'm gonna wipe that thing off his head. What's up with that thing, really?" the commune news has the utmost respect for India and all the other nutfuck nuke-having foreign nations out there. Ivana Folger-Balzac has the utmost respect for Indiana Jones, which isn't the same thing at all, but we're sure as hell not going to be the ones to point that out.
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Emmy predictions: Polite laughter, shameless self-congratulations
Bush Administration losing War on Environment
Israeli suicide bomb had been talking about death a lot lately
 Da Vinci Code Author Found Guilty of Inspiring National Treasure |
Conservative Woman Found he White House, always on the search for rare species of human beings or close approximations, unearthed an impressive find last week: A female conservative. Defying usual stereotypes, the so-called “right-wing woman” is apparently not a career politician or from the deep rural South. In fact, she’s completed higher education and appears to be not at all an idiot of any sort—though field-testing leaves the possibility open. And, perhaps most startling of all, the administration found the rare species in the most unlikeliest of places—within its own ranks. The alleged female Republican is Harriet Miers, White House attorney and personal lawyer to the Bush clan for years. Born and raised in Dallas, a small state in the country of Texas, Miers earned several accolades for her legal work and previous appointments by Texas governor George W. Bush, no relation to the current president. Though she lacks any bench experience, discounting bus stops, Miers is a respected lawyer, despite being personal attorney to the president and the White House counsel. Fox Disappointed by Desperate Alien Prison Escape Ratings he new television season barely underway, Fox executives are already lamenting the low ratings for their most calculated new show of the season, Desperate Alien Prison Escape. “We don’t understand it,” lamented stunned network executive Roger Bacon. “This show capitalized on every hot trend currently on TV. We even had swearing. It should have been the biggest hit of all time. Fuck.” Fox’s latest ratings hopeful follows the travails of Juk, a member of a secret alien invasion conspiracy who intentionally gets arrested for sleeping with a bored suburban housewife in order to help his cousin escape from jail, using a detailed map he had tattooed on his scrotum, which due to his alien anatomy is located where a human being’s eyelids would be. Alec Baldwin Records Devastating Voice Mail Message for Shooter Sony’s Poorly Timed “PS3 Price Massacre” Backfires |
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 September 15, 2003
Look Out for FuzzOh crap, Boris is in trouble with law.
Yes, is true. Is worse than time Boris use hair blower to dry off in shower, then finds out is against hair blower law.
Boris is moving Louis mattress other day, to get valuable things when Louis is out on street making robot money. Boris doesn't not have mattress of own for to put valuable things underneath, so must be sneaky to use Louis mattress when no persons is looking. Don't worry, is normal thing to do on TV and movies. Over times Boris has many valuable things hidden under mattress, like pretty soaps and collection of nickels in piglet bank. Louis doesn't not know even of this thing, is so secret. But him does complain back is hurting from sleep lousy so maybe Louis back does know this secret.
OK, so Boris wants to get under mattress to look at valuable things, is right? Well, lesson one is even if Boris wants to climb under mattress to be secret when looking at things, is so hot in there not a good idea. Better to move mattress instead. So Boris is moving mattress with little paper handle for grabbing, you know thing. But handle is shit and come off like no good. Then Boris looks at thing and is printed note saying "Boris, you are not to tear off this thing or the police will shoot you so many times." This is scary warning for Boris to go to jail for so long like funny persons on COPS show because he is so bad to rip off tag thing.
"Oh crap," thinks Boris. "This is bad kind...
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Oh crap, Boris is in trouble with law. Yes, is true. Is worse than time Boris use hair blower to dry off in shower, then finds out is against hair blower law. Boris is moving Louis mattress other day, to get valuable things when Louis is out on street making robot money. Boris doesn't not have mattress of own for to put valuable things underneath, so must be sneaky to use Louis mattress when no persons is looking. Don't worry, is normal thing to do on TV and movies. Over times Boris has many valuable things hidden under mattress, like pretty soaps and collection of nickels in piglet bank. Louis doesn't not know even of this thing, is so secret. But him does complain back is hurting from sleep lousy so maybe Louis back does know this secret. OK, so Boris wants to get under mattress to look at valuable things, is right? Well, lesson one is even if Boris wants to climb under mattress to be secret when looking at things, is so hot in there not a good idea. Better to move mattress instead. So Boris is moving mattress with little paper handle for grabbing, you know thing. But handle is shit and come off like no good. Then Boris looks at thing and is printed note saying "Boris, you are not to tear off this thing or the police will shoot you so many times." This is scary warning for Boris to go to jail for so long like funny persons on COPS show because he is so bad to rip off tag thing. "Oh crap," thinks Boris. "This is bad kind of shit." Is true. Boris can imagine hearing funny COPS song out window, but is not so funny when Boris is one crawling under fence while police dogs bite on his fanny. This ruins joke of song. Boris does turn out all lights and hide behind stove like no one is home. If police persons come with Boris-sniffing dogs, they will not find Boris because they are smelling food smells from stove. Is so easy to fool dogs this way, because they are not tall enough to see what is behind stove. After while stove hiding place does get uncomfortable, and there is bugs who lives back there and does not like Boris at all. So Boris does move and hides in closet behind vacuum machine, where carpet is soft on Boris fanny. But after while this does get dark and boring, so Boris move to hide behind couch, where there is magazines to look at and laugh. This is more fun way to hide. After more while Boris is hiding on couch because gameshow is on, but Boris is ready to run behind stove or some place if police does come. Later Boris does forget he is hiding and goes out to get sandwich. But next day, memory does come back of mattress crime and then all day Boris is haunted by COPS song in head. "Bad Boris, Bad Boris, what shoes come unglued? Wash your gum in stew when they comfort you!" Is so strange, this song. Boris wish to call head-radio with request for different song, like "Common Eileen." That is fun song does not make Boris so scared. After some thinking time in stove hiding place, Boris does figure out the smart idea. Police persons can't not shoot Boris so many times if there is no thing of proof, no thing they call elephants. So Boris must hide this thing using brain. And this is what Boris does, putting tag handle back on mattress with special duck tape. Is special tape for when duck does fall apart, one strange thing Louis does have just in case of this happening. Now Boris is thinking is pretty safe. Police persons does not spend so much time in Louis bedroom to find tag thing is taped like duck. Boris does still run when hearing COPS song, but this is "just in case" smart running. º Last Column: Wave Hello to Heatº more columns
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|  November 11, 2002
Greetings from GracielandGreetings, commune readers. Rok Finger here, typing greetings to you from beautiful Rumney, New Hampshire. Feel free to register your surprise, disgust, or firearms—whichever is appropriate. It's understandable that based on comments made previously in this column by both yours truly and myself, one might have reasonably expected these words to be coming at you from sunny Memphis, Tennessee. And I'm just skylarking about the sunny part. For as my more astute readers may have guessed—I never went to Tennessee at all.
I was saved from such an embarrassing misstep on my first-ever annual pilgrimage to Graceland by resident commune know-it-all Griswald Dreck, who informed me that the Graceland of Elvis Presley toilet overdose fame and the Graceland of Paul Simon dancing with Chevy Chase fame are not, in fact, the same place. Needless to say, this was news to Rokwell T. Finger, much like the fate of Old Yeller. Leave it to Griswald Dreck to puncture two balloons with one needle and a story about a glue factory.
According to Dreck, the Paul Simon album I was so eager to experience in real-life form was in fact originally titled Gracieland, a reference to the New Hampshire shrine built in memory of George Burns' late wife. But thanks to an irreputable typesetter with a financial interest in Elvis memorabilia, Simon's message was forever obfuscated.
Now Rok Finger is no fool, and he, meaning me, unwittingly lines the pockets of no...
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Greetings, commune readers. Rok Finger here, typing greetings to you from beautiful Rumney, New Hampshire. Feel free to register your surprise, disgust, or firearms—whichever is appropriate. It's understandable that based on comments made previously in this column by both yours truly and myself, one might have reasonably expected these words to be coming at you from sunny Memphis, Tennessee. And I'm just skylarking about the sunny part. For as my more astute readers may have guessed—I never went to Tennessee at all.
I was saved from such an embarrassing misstep on my first-ever annual pilgrimage to Graceland by resident commune know-it-all Griswald Dreck, who informed me that the Graceland of Elvis Presley toilet overdose fame and the Graceland of Paul Simon dancing with Chevy Chase fame are not, in fact, the same place. Needless to say, this was news to Rokwell T. Finger, much like the fate of Old Yeller. Leave it to Griswald Dreck to puncture two balloons with one needle and a story about a glue factory.
According to Dreck, the Paul Simon album I was so eager to experience in real-life form was in fact originally titled Gracieland, a reference to the New Hampshire shrine built in memory of George Burns' late wife. But thanks to an irreputable typesetter with a financial interest in Elvis memorabilia, Simon's message was forever obfuscated.
Now Rok Finger is no fool, and he, meaning me, unwittingly lines the pockets of no man. Unless that man is running a chain letter scam. Rok Finger may not be a fool, but he's even less a fan of bad luck chain letter voodoo. Scary stuff. But thanks to Griswald Dreck, noble American, some Deep South huckster claimed one fewer victim this week. Dreck was even nice enough to take the then-useless plane ticket to Memphis off my hands for twenty dollars American. And before you could say late purchase ticket surcharge, I was on my way to New Hampshire.
In a word, readers, Gracieland is everything I could have hoped for, and did. There are truly angels in the architecture. And that line about the roly-poly little bat-faced girl? No longer an impenetrable mystery. Suffice it to say that George Burns' late wife was not an Amazonian supermodel. Far be it from Rok Finger to hold that against her, however, especially seeing as I have played the troll under the bridge in over 30 elementary school productions of The Brothers Grimm without need of expensive makeup effects or costuming.
Though I had secretly hoped to view the stuffed cadaver of Chevy Chase on this trip, I leave feeling fully satisfied and, for once in my oft-disappointing life, fully on the "inside" of an juicy morsel of popular culture. I haven't felt this hip since discovering the hidden soft drink advertisement in Donovan's hit song Mellow Yellow back in the 1960's.
And more importantly, as with any good vacation, I was able to completely forget about the outside world for a time. Not literally, mind you, I didn't buy a house or ask to start getting my mail here or anything asinine along those lines. But except for the time spent at the public library typing this column and a few calls home to check on Lee and Camembert that were apparently misrouted to the head trauma ward of a veterinary hospital, the last week has been about nothing but Rok Finger getting in touch with Rok Finger. Some would say that altogether too much Rok Finger-touching went on, and that is a distinct possibility, but the late night programming made available on motel TV was utterly beyond my control.
I return home a wiser Rok Finger, and one who now owns more George & Gracie refrigerator magnets than he knows what to do with. I hope Camembert likes magnets, because I've easily got all his birthdays and Christmases covered for the rest of his natural life. º Last Column: Until I Return, Camembert is in Chargeº more columns
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Milestones2004: President Bush, in a farewell address to the nation, apologizes for corruption in his administration and senseless slaughter of American lives, as well as the mangling of the language (courtesy of Future Bob).Now HiringNew Now Hiring Guy. What can we say? Richie quit. Stupid, if you ask us. It was a sweet gig. Most of time he never even got any applications or resumes to review. He just made up half these jobs, but don't tell anyone we said so. You just can't make some people happy.Least Effective SARS Protective Efforts| 1. | Stop breathing | | 2. | Fire handgun blindly at coughs | | 3. | Smoking deceased SARS victims | | 4. | Wave hand, say "Don't go in Toronto! Whew!" | | 5. | Drinking imported Hong Kong bathwater | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 11/12/2001 Well, it seems that another two weeks have passed us by, leaving some of us wiser and others of us with a burn in the shape of an exhaust pipe on our ankle. I've found myself especially reflective this week, wondering at the marvelous ballet of life, the opera of death, and the wine-tasting of being in a coma. Heady thoughts for a movie review column, I know, but it's best not to forget that should we ever doze off at the wheel of our Bonneville and drive into a lake, we might end up in a coma. And on that day we stop watching the movies… and the movies start watching us. I'll let you chew on that for a while whilst we go about our business with this week's edition of "Ask Roland":
Q. Roland, in light of the events on September 11th, do you think we've seen...
Well, it seems that another two weeks have passed us by, leaving some of us wiser and others of us with a burn in the shape of an exhaust pipe on our ankle. I've found myself especially reflective this week, wondering at the marvelous ballet of life, the opera of death, and the wine-tasting of being in a coma. Heady thoughts for a movie review column, I know, but it's best not to forget that should we ever doze off at the wheel of our Bonneville and drive into a lake, we might end up in a coma. And on that day we stop watching the movies… and the movies start watching us. I'll let you chew on that for a while whilst we go about our business with this week's edition of "Ask Roland":
Q. Roland, in light of the events on September 11th, do you think we've seen the end of the "Age of Irony"? Is it even possible to be ironic in the current national climate? And what will this mean for the lowest-common-denominator comedic filmmakers of the last few years?
Ted Huxley, Angel's Rump, New Hampshire
A. Good question, Ted. But I'm afraid I'm going to have to split with the consensus here and predict that the "Age of Irony" is far from over. After all, what's an action film without Arnold's menacing, irony stare after the bad guy feeds his entire family to a cannibalistic new-age cult? And who would bother to watch a Christina Aguilera video if her taut, irony thighs were not on display for all to see? I predict that the "irony" look has a lot more mileage left in it, and that it's only real threat is from the also-popular "steely" look, not the long-awaited release of the "Dr Who: The Robots of Death" DVD on September 11th.
Q. I'm so close, Roland. Years ago I realized that someone—or someTHING was trying to communicate with me during ABC's movie of the week. It all started years back when I was watching "Another 48 Hours" on a Sunday evening, enjoying Murphy and Nolte's comical misadventures. During one especially funny scene, where Nolte is mad at Murphy from some bone-headed thing or another, I noticed a distinct pattern of beeping during their dialogue. It took me a while to figure it out, but then suddenly it dawned on me: Morse code. What the devil could this mean? A subliminal subtext to the film? A secret message for the eagle-eared? I had to find out. I decided to rent the film to watch it again… I'd earned my merit badge in Morse code as a scout years ago, but shamefully admit that my decoding skills have slipped over the years. If Samuel Morse stood before me now, well, I imagine he'd get sick all over himself and frankly I don't blame him. I make no excuses at my Morse coding ineptitude, and I don't expect others to make excuses for me either. Anyhow, I rented the movie at my local Hombre Video store and was shocked to find that it contained no Morse code in it at all! Apparently whoever was behind this was choosing the ABC movie as a forum to communicate with me and me alone. So I returned to my post in front of my 35 inch Zenith TruTube set, armed with only a pen, some paper, an Amstel Light and "The Idiot's Guide to Morse Code and Pig Latin (Doubleday, 1995)" the following Sunday night. Week after week I kept vigilant watch over the Movie of the Week, each week receiving a new coded message. But who could it be sending me these messages, Roland? The Russians? The Venusians? The Jeffersons? Is it you, Roland? So far the messages have been vague about their source. Here's what I have so far: GNUTLE. ZEEPRO. HAMMY. ZIPLX. FZZRT. ILM. TEET. TEET. I'm so close, Roland. Maybe it's Pig Latin.
Morris Timbaker, Oleo, Nebraska
A. Wow, Morris. Sounds like Nebraska's a pretty exciting place to live. If I were you, I'd keep myself within the state lines and never, ever leave. I mean that.
The preceeding letters were edited for clarity and because the second one was over fourteen pages long. Now it's time for the movies!
In Theaters Now:
Domestic Disturbance
I was beginning to think that Chuck Norris would never recover from the humiliating beating he took from the Hillbilly Twins in Wrestlemania XV, but now he's returning to the big screen to give Stephen Seagal and Jet Li a taste of old-school box-office thug competition. Here, Norris plays a retired CIA karate guy who just wants a little peace and quiet… but some Jehovah's Witnesses, an Amway salesman and a young woman running for city council have other ideas! Jackie Chan could learn a little something from this one about kicking someone's ass with a phone.
Mobsters, Inc
Nobody gets tired of hilarious CGI goombas smacking each other around with frying pans and scratching themselves with ice picks, that's the first rule of Hollywood. This kids' classic should give Disney's upcoming Jack the Ripper animated film a run for it's money, and you can bet your kids will be singing "There's a Body in the Trunk" and "Two Through The Eyes, Tony-Boy" until you want to hide the cursed CD and tell them the family dog has a taste for plastic. Maybe then they'll finally let you take Rex on the "big walk", eh?
Shallow Hal
Mix "Clueless" with "2001: A Space Oddity" and what do you get? I don't know, they're not screening this one for the critics. Way to pencil your names in on my shit list, guys.
Now on Video:
The Animal
I've been saying for years that the Muppets movie franchise has been going down the tubes, and it looks like the Hollywood big-wigs are finally taking notice. After the dismal failures of "The Muppets and Mary Kate and Ashley's Favorite Sleep-Overs", "Muppet Mall Party", "The Great Muppet Salmonella Scare", "Muppets in a Waiting Room", "The Muppets Meet the Yankees", and "The Muppets Vs. The Department of Justice", I was afraid the next Muppet movie might try to kick my elderly mother in the teeth. But thank God for small favors, because "The Animal" is the best Muppet picture in years, harkening back to the glory days of "Muppet Lambada Lesson" and "Fame". Finally the quiet dignity behind the Muppet empire, Animal, gets his own movie. And if you don't think watching Animal yell "Wipe-Out! Wipe-Out!" for two hours while he jumps on shit is entertaining, then my friend I think the child in you has just choked on a Duplo block.
Baby Boyscouts
Normally I'd puke at the mention of a low-rent rip-off of the hip urban hit "Baby Geniuses", but I have to admit that this potent mix of "The Edge" and "Look Who's Talking" kept me in stitches from the opening shot of the Columbia chick in a diaper to the closing credits scroll, which was continually interrupted so the babies could be fed and hosed down. You've never seen camping done like this, as the baby boyscouts are, one-by-one, eaten by bears, birds of prey, large muskies and even a moose in the film's hysterical high-note. Kudos go to the inventive writers who mine comedy from such ingenious scenarios as having the babies try to start a campfire by leaving a soiled diaper out in the sun, only to have it explode and blow out a crater bigger than the one in Raymond Burr's bed.
The Golden Bowl
Finally taking toilet humor to it's logical extreme, the Farley Brothers pinch this wonderful loaf on our entertainment lawn. Here we have the tale of the four brave knights of Crapalot, played by Jack Nicholson, Buster Keaton, David Lee Roth and that fat guy from Remember the Titans. They're on a quest to bring a holy throne back to it's rightful place in the king of England's bathroom, and quickly because he ate some pork that may have turned some time last week.
Television:
Alias (ABC)
ABC continues its downhill slide into network oblivion with this awful re-hash with the remaining cast members of the original Alice, the fun show about the single mom waitress and her friends at work. But everyone's gotten predictably boring over the years, not to mention their spelling's pretty fucked up, and to sum up this show: No Flo? No go!
Crossing Jordan (NBC)
That Michael Jordan is amazing! How on earth that guy has time to lead a fantastic basketball team to victory, star in a new hit series, and still perform his regular full-time job of endorsing every product made here and overseas is beyond me. And this is no fluff comedy, either: Jordan is a tough Lean on Me-style crossing guard, when he says stop, he means STOP!
The Big Mac Show (Fox)
Everybody loved those popular McDonald's commercials and nobody was sadder than Roland M. they couldn't get everybody for a regular series. But who would have thought Big Mac, of all characters, would be the big network star? Nobody, and rightly so, since this show is on UPN. But it's still a lot of fun, despite the lame substitute characters like McFish and Shamrock Shake. Still, maybe if the show gets big enough good ol' Grimace and maybe even Ronald himself will drop by for an episode!
Video Games:
Boy O Boy, is Roland McShyster pickled tink! Yep, you guessed it, I got my hands on a preview version of Microsoft's Sexbox Console and some games! I'm as surprised as you are the company would mail me a preview console to review, and the dude who delivered it required a generous tip. He may not have been a mailman, but I remember seeing him in some capacity at the post office, or a picture of him, maybe. Who cares? I'm too busy gaming to ask questions or describe faces for sketch artists!
Kabuki Warriors (XB)
Before you get yourself all hyped out, be warned: Kabuki is Japanese for mime. Man, what a weak concept. All in all, it's not bad, but c'mon, without learning all the specialty moves all you can really do is pretend you're in a box. I tried roping my opponent, but the controls are too damned difficult, so it ends up the guy beats me by walking against the wind across the screen and nailing me with a big heavy invisible hammer. Not for me.
SEX Tricky (XB)
Now this here's a game with power! Cut phat beats worthy of your master, the awesome DJ Tricky, or be banished to the realm of nerddom and no longer able to get into any clubs. Much better than the Super Mario rip-off where you're Björk and have to escape the giant teddy bear.
Tony Hawk's Prosecutor Tux (XB)
Same as the game I reviewed last week for PS2, but in this one you're dressed like a motherfucker. Comparing it to PS2, the graphics and sound and game play and all are better, or maybe not as good, or perhaps not that much different. But the controls are definitely not the same for each game system, unless I was playing the PS2 version. It's hard to tell with the exact same game, folks.
NFL Prime Time 2002 (XB)
Your average football game, you ask? No! This one is above and beyond expectations as the game play is generated by the computer itself. Instead, you're Dennis Miller and you have to quickly come up with anachronistic references and jokes that sound way more intelligent than football fans could get, thus maintaining your feeling of superiority over the rest of the human race. Now this is the next century of gaming!
A mixed bag of games, true, but the power and style of the system is beyond belief. And so I give the Sexbox my highest rating ever: Good!
I hope it was good for you, too, America! Stop by in another two weeks and we'll see what we can do about that stutter of yours.   |
