In preparation for tonight's debate, I cleaned the TV screen. Then I erected a chicken-wire screen in front of it like in a live-music shitkicker bar, as the ol' lady has taken to chucking her empty beer bottles at Dubya. Her aim's been improving lately, at least with the first ten or twelve.
The smart money (mine) is on Big John for the trifecta. I think he'll kick the chimp's ass again. I love to see him whine. I love the smell of toasted chimp in the morning.
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