Hold your head up to the gun of a million cathode ray tubes aired at your tiny skull.
The Christmas spirit is not what you drink.
Too many heroes stepping on too many toes, too many yes-men nodding when they really mean no.
The excrement bubbles, the century slime decays, and the brainwashing government lackeys would have us say it's under control.
In the beginning Man created God: and in the image of Man created he him.
She's a warm fart at Christmas.