Please God, help us, the rehab never ends! Elizabeth Edwards is planning a new book.
At the risk of sounding too much like Ann Coulter, I'm sick of Saint Elizabeth. I'm even sicker of her husband. And as one of the many citizens (aka, ordinary schmucks) they BOTH lied to in order to pursue their "rabid" ambition, the only "truth" I'm interested in is the answer in the envelope at the end of a Maury Povich show.
Who da baby's Daddy? Show us the DNA. Then PLEASE go back to the absurdly gargantuous house you & your narcissistic hubby decimated a "slummy" forrest in Orange County to build . . . in order to house all those Secret Service agents who are now probably breathing a collective sigh of relief.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
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