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Today is Sweetmorn, the 30th day of Confusion in the YOLD 3178.
Save the Republic, kill a Republican.
Someone's been sleeping in my Coolant Chamber, said Papa Bearoid.
gadzooks! sound the patchouli alarum. we've scented an incense stick disguised as a human.
I am a glutton for the schadenfreudtastic sweetness of GOP tears. The tears of clowns.
At night, the ice weasels come.
OK you morons, it's lunchtime, so sit on your damn hands for 60 mins while I scarf joyless calories before returning to duty as your IT guy.
"Never wear your best pants when you fight for freedom." --fortune
"Troublematic" should be a word. As in, "Office politics are endlessly troublematic." Well, actually, there, it now exists. Coinomatic!