What's there to say, really: Ann Coulter's jaw wired shut?
And in other news: last night I was subjected to part of Dancing With the Stars. I can now confidently report what I'm sure many people already knew–wow, does Miley Cyrus blow. She's got the vocal prowess of a consumptive Mae West, the dance moves of a 4th-grade ballerina, and the charisma of a plantar wart. Of course she'll be wildly successful anyway, but I somehow feel better to say it.
And since it's the day before Thanksgiving, I'll go ahead and say what I'm most thankful for, at least underneath the brim of this ten-gallon hat: all the flatulent ravings of the far right just blow away to the distant hills since Nov. 4. Granted, some mountain goat somewhere might get a green-gilled coughing fit as a result, but that's about it these days. Won't last, but it sure is nice.
And if you haven't enjoyed it yet, here's your turkey celebration. Watching the guy in the background stare at the camera is alone worth enduring more Palin. Warning: blood, guts and giblets.
