You’ve Come A Long Way, Baby!


Diamonds may be a girl’s best friend, but I’d put all my money into life insurance before messing with Michelle’s man.

It occurs to me that if Marylin Monroe were to sing “Happy birthday, Mister President!” to Barack Obama like she did to JFK, Michelle would leap onstage, punch through her ribcage, rip her still-beating heart out of her chest and eat it.

I like to think of this as progress.

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