Ha! If I wanted cross-talk from an exhumed civil war pervert, I’d talk to James Carville
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Stuff it in your jim-jam, you little iron-deficient pooper scooper
Oh we’re making up words, now. Look here: you’ve got 24 hours to apologize or I’ll have you sent to gitmo.
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Go wrangle some rhubarb, ya bellyachin' gindaloon
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Kiss my grits, unless it interrupts your time alienating young people across the country
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