No Dijon mustard

at Denny's? 

Not fud, just uplifting

And to think he could just be clearing brush for the cameras. 

Grownups

are back in charge. Even with cheese. Of course, it's an elitist cheese. 

Not fud, just weirdly good

Mr. Fish will not drink the Kool-Aid.

Not fud, just encouraging

It would be enough that he's articulate after eight years of chimp noises. Vision is the bonus. (Can I say it again, that Typhoid Mary was a cook and that health care for everyone might not be a ridiculous idea?) 

Aren't there beets

ready to be harvested yet? 

Not fud, just good

Words have consequences. Imagine. 

Not fud, just good

And I just hope to fuck he's right.

Finally

a president who knows how to get a bill passed: First you marinate the legislators. Let's hope the Chimp is choking on his pretzels at the "ranch." 

Politics

makes strange table mates.

Pork

hangover. 

Why can't he just pack up

his pretzels and go home already? (Oh, the fud? Room service.) 

Play-for-No-Pay

will print any old horse shit. Do as he says, not as he weighs. 

You gotta wonder

whose post-holiday parties were more important. Calling Elizabeth Buttkisser. . . 

Loose lips

and no copy editors. Count the misspellings. 

Not fud, just excellent

Why do the worst films always get the sequels? 

All fattened up

and ready for tinfoil. 

Not fud, just sadly brilliant

Until Jamie Oliver crosses over

I think "foodies" should leave the decision-making to the O Team. 

While Alessandra Stanley

sniffs the old Clinton panties. . .