As unlikely as Newtie’s Moon colony suggestion was, I couldn’t help but nod my head and growl, “Yeah! What happened to the America that can?”
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As unlikely as Newtie’s Moon colony suggestion was, I couldn’t help but nod my head and growl, “Yeah! What happened to the America that can?”
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Congratulations on not going all Barbara on this odd-numbered election year. Remember, a healthy nation is a tasty nation.
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I thought we zombies would be the ones to make the United States look like a third world country on the news. You beat us to the punch, Oakland PD. Well done.
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It is my pleasure to inform you that this Concerned Zombie does not support the game, Tea Party Zombies Must Die, and plans to boycott it.
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Here’s the thing, Michele. No one is going to blame me for ripping out my neighbor’s liver and making fois gras with it. My neighbor is a racist anti-Semite who puts her garbage out on the wrong day, anyway. But you, Michele. People might think you’re racist because of this pledge. And that’s way worse.
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Certainly, Mr. Rohrabacher, you could have had an intern Google this for you. I’m a zombie, and even I have an intern. He’s an MBA from Colgate. I’m quite looking forward to eating him later, unless he can find some tossed out Boar’s Head cold cuts in our immediate vicinity.
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By Lisa Fary
Colin Powell’s hip-hop dancing was really a covert endorsement for B-Rock.
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If you must watch the debate alone in the dark with a bottle of bargain booze, at least bathe yourself in the glow of the internets and the liveblogapalooza therein.
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