6 Comments

I gotta draw the line at blasphemy. Blasphemy is ... is ... is ... GODDAMN IT I lost my fucking dictionary. Holy Christ on a popsicle stick this proves there is no God. A useful god would give us peace, long life and a DICTIONARY. Or at least a Thesaurus so we could make cinnamons. Fuckin' blasphemy.

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I gotta side with Shirvell on this. Because basically, I could get fired or pressured for some of the things I write on wonkette. Especially because I write them when I'm supposed to be in some half-assed meeting with my half-wit boss implementing some half-baked idea. Idjits. Morans. Half-breed muslins. OH. Like I said, i could get in trouble at work too.

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Maybe, horrible as it was, Tyler Clementi's suicide did accomplish one thing previously thought impossible: taking gay-bashing seriously. Case in point. Sorry, am working up to snark.

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He’s probably spending his time trying to figure a way to duplicate and repeat the process of internet broadcasting of college student’s romantic rendezvous with the intent of driving them to jump off of bridges. Everyone needs a hobby I guess.

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May it be so.

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I see a restraining order in someone's future.

I hope Chris Armstrong doesn't have a pet rabbit.

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