Republican Cleanup on Aisle 3
Fan Mail from Some Flounderer.
Face it, you hate just about everything he does. At this precise moment, 11 am on a Monday morning, you know where he is: passed out nude and uncovered on the bed in the upstairs bedroom, crack pipe stuck on his lower lip, prostitutes long gone as they have to work to make a living, and fifty unanswered calls on his vibr…
