Karl Rove must go to the jail, the pokey, the big house, if you will. No not country-club Republican, I-ripped-off-your-grandma-with-junk-bonds prison where he can join the Dartmouth or Princeton rowing squad and walk by a state-of-the-art outdoor weight-lifting facility his two-seats-on-Southwest ass would never even think about using.
I mean real prison. Like the kind you go to if you're caught in Kuala Lumpur with Rush's medicine bag.
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Saturday, March 17, 2007
But what kind of prison?
Personally, I think Karl Rove should spend two weeks with me on an uninhabited island. I would take great pleasure hearing him begging me to kill him to put him out of his misery and we wouldn't disturb anybody with all the messiness. I figure it would be worth trading what's left of my sanity to give him what he deserves. It would be cathartic for the nation too. Cliff Schecter has other ideas:
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