After posting this, I went to the diet doctor's site to see if the gigantic primitive, the Las Vegas Lardass, had said anything recently, but alas not. There were queries from other members there asking about him, the below being the most recent:
I think the above's right; the gigantic primitive's got to forget all about politics--he doesn't know a damned thing about politics anyway--and concentrate on getting a job and losing more weight, in that order.
I visited the Field Museum in Chicago recently. The first thing you see when you enter is this huge T. rex skeleton, which they've named "Sue". Later, you can view a humongous whale skeleton, and it would really be cool if they named it "Kirk".
But seriously, folks, every time the Leviathan is absent for a few weeks, I always suspect that his abused, laboriously pumping ticker has finally exploded into a hundred flabby little chunks. For years he's forced it to pump a greasy sludge of fat mixed with blood through hundreds of unnatural miles of veins, arteries, and capillaries, to keep his monstrous corpulence from rotting. Of course, the reason he does that is entirely the fault of George W. Bush.
It can't keep up forever, and when it fails, it will be a spectacular detonation. Hopefully, when that happens, Jeanette will be working the phone banks and will thereby escape injury.
