I Cough When The Air Gets Coulter

Have you ever noticed that grossly obese people pretty much look the same from far away? I've seen plenty of really fat guys off in the distance and said to myself, "self, isn't that a fat guy that I know?" Apparently I didn't, but on the upside Anne Coulter was trapped inside, previously mistaken for a tasteless chicken bone. I really wish she would stay in her coffin, at least until the sun goes down.

I think I've gone through roughly two hundred cough drops and they're only good for the time I have them in my mouth, kind of like Paris Hilton's thoughts. I just can't stop coughing and the only thing that makes me stop is sex, so basically I'm coughing all day. All I can do is sit here, write something completely useless to the rest of the human race, and get used to my wife watching America's Next Top Mindless Airhead. I don't think that name of this show really speaks the truth. What they should do is call it America's Next 25 New Strippers, because that's the jobs the losers get as a door prize. I was told that if you get kicked out of Tyra's show, you are then immediately invited to be on Brett Michael's show, just as soon as your new boobs heal.

Girls, I don't know who you are or who you had to do taxes with to get where you are, but as long as you know Papa Chester's proud of you, then at least you listen to old, creepy stuffed animals.