Any of your better cheese experts will tell you there’s nothing that pairs better with a fist-sized hunk of Government Cheese than a couple of British ghost stories, one almost certainly made up, the other definitely made up. Warm up your false vocal chords for some fake ghost sounds, and learn more about the chain of government fuckery that ended with the son of a bitch Ronald Reagan offloading warehouses of third-rate Velveeta to his most hated enemy, Poor People!
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Any of your better cheese experts will tell you there’s nothing that pairs better with a fist-sized hunk of Government Cheese than a couple of British ghost stories, one almost certainly made up, the other definitely made up. Warm up your false vocal chords for some fake ghost sounds, and learn more about the chain of government fuckery that ended with the son of a bitch Ronald Reagan offloading warehouses of third-rate Velveeta to his most hated enemy, Poor People!
By the time July 4, 1976 had rolled around, a lot of people had put a lot of effort into crushing the whole thing into a bureaucratic logjam. A lot more people had made sure not one single American had the option of forgetting, even for a moment, that it was the BICENTENNIAL AND EVERYBODY BETTER AMERICA REAL REAL HARD STARTING RIGHT NOW, GOT IT?!? By that point, chiropractic medicine had begun to ease into a slightly less quackery-intensive version of itself (don't worry, it was still pretty ...
Madness Madness!
Any of your better cheese experts will tell you there’s nothing that pairs better with a fist-sized hunk of Government Cheese than a couple of British ghost stories, one almost certainly made up, the other definitely made up. Warm up your false vocal chords for some fake ghost sounds, and learn more about the chain of government fuckery that ended with the son of a bitch Ronald Reagan offloading warehouses of third-rate Velveeta to his most hated enemy, Poor People!
