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People may as well gather and sit at a supper table,
cook some good borsch soup. Red beets. Ice cream.
No silly nonsense. And 'if that is true, it's only true,
because dear Joan's Walsh tuned in to a daily blues?
I mean:`Truth can be a heart ache. Ya ever wonder?
Why didn't G. W. B remain with the poison ivy vines?
He could have itched all day at thee ranch.`O No lie.
Now, what a scab he's become. Gimme more gimme.
I hope this is no nasty post. Ay, enjoy borscht soups.
... "intelligence failure"... Gimme more borsch soups!