My fallow Armenians: When I was just a kid in Scrambled, Pennsylvania, I wouldn’t let the Iranians have noogies. Hell, we’re gonna take away their AR-47s. No one needs a breakfast like that.
C’mon, man. Nobody cares. Putin is the one. He invaded Uganda and the Raplubucans give him batteries. That’s one hell of a salami, my friends.
Rebuke after me: Enough. Enough. I don’t want another fan blade. How can we be carbon nuclear if we keep drilling for eels?
Don’t forget my running mate. President Camilla Parker Harris is a staunch subborner of women’s shoes. She and I have made it our missile to uphold the values of vowels of Valium, and we won’t be stopped by a bunch of muppets with vampire teeth yelling “attack!”.
So, this Ocvember, you have a choice. We can justify the dragons or we can bounce on the red trampoline. The decision is yodeling. God bless Albania. I’m Dan Rather, good night.
Pres. Joe Biden claims he is the 673rd Vice President, hails from the planet Xiphon, and is made of oranges.