swiped from permetaform:
someone must’ve slipped the editor-in-chief a roofie, man. there’s no other possible explanation for this RPS.
July 7, 2004—I didn’t want it to happen. I didn’t see it coming. I’m a husband. I’m a father. I’m the President of the United States of America. I’m freedom’s go-to guy. But today, while I was watching one of my ads, that spot attacking him for being all flippity-floppity on Iraq, I realized, beyond a shadow of a doubt: Oh, my God, I’m in love with John Kerry.
