BURNING LOVE. I've always figured that the best thing about going to hell would be seeing all my friends again. I was wrong. Michael and MarCee Wilkerson tell the Boston Globe's Brian MacQuarrie that I'll get to meet Gandhi, too. Woo-hoo!
Nice to know that the Mahatma and I will be sharing the eternal torments of the damned while a couple of BMW-driving yuppies from Cincinnati will be doing the halo-and-wings thing.
Memo to Democrats: stop trying to appeal to these folks. They sound like very nice people. They also happen to hate us.
GOD BLESS HARRIET KLAUSNER. When my book on dwarfism, Little People, was published a year and a half ago, the first person to review it on Amazon.com was a woman named Harriet Klausner. She liked it, Mikey, she really liked it.
Today the Wall Street Journal's Joanne Kaufman profiles Klausner, who has reviewed nearly 9000 books for Amazon, and often plows through four or five a day.
I continue to wonder why my friends are disgusted by my suggestion that we round up such people and gas them.
Seriously, I wonder how to penetrated the rock-hard brains of scum like the superstitious morons in the story.
Gives new meaning to the term 'Jesus wept'.
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