Pardon Me, No Pardons For Rotten Presidents
Excuse the formatting problems on this here blog. How many asses are going to gather around me like brain-jacked automatons and speak of aviation? The latest? Maybe the Nazi Secret Service I would fire ought to know about these creeps. Who? Who are you? Don't know, but they sat in the same "Hey, it's LINDSEY LOHAN" Carl's Jr. and blabbed about nuclear weapons, their old bombers, and where they would be for lunch. Idiots?
No comment, terrorists, until I have a book or movie deal.