Probably everyone who reads "Animal Farm" by George Orwell can agree that it is very sad when Boxer the draft horse dies and is sent to be turned to glue. But something not everyone can agree on is whether "Animal Farm" is an allegory for the Russian Revolution. I, specifically, do not agree with this frankly ill-conceived idea.
I like Ben Stiller. I like "Zoolander." I like "Meet The Parents." I like "Night at the Museum." I like "Tropic Thunder." I like "Meet The Fockers." I like "Reality Bites." I like "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty." I like "Night at the Museum 2." I like "Along Came Polly." I like "Starsky and Hutch." I like "Greenberg." I like "While We're Young." I even like "Night at the Museum: Secret Of The Tomb." I’m telling you all this so that you don’t think I’m being unfair when I say that it’s difficult for me to divorce my enjoyment of Mr. Stiller’s work from his bloody assassination of my Reaganite father in 1996.
I won’t beat around the bush: I kill a lot of deer. I have a PSE Brute hunting bow that I keep in my closet, and I use it to kill deer for sport in the woods behind my apartment complex. That should be legal, and guess what? It is.
The most powerful promise our nation has to offer is the American Dream. For generations, people have been inspired by the idea that all can make something of themselves here in America. But what those people don’t understand is that only the president really lives the American Dream. I, Barack Obama, am living the American dream right now, and I am the only one.
When it comes to puzzles, I’m the top brass. Solving puzzles? Hell, I make those bad boys for "The New York Times"! As a matter of fact, I’d never met a puzzle I couldn’t solve until I lost my Charlene, the only person I’ve ever truly loved.
It was night, and we were outside. My father tied my arms and legs together and told me to kneel. My closest friends and relatives made a circle around us, chanting, “Bitch pig! Bitch pig!” Then my father shot me point-blank in the head.
Partly Cloudy, 64°
