Thanks to threepunchstuff for this bit of near-perfect, uh, thing. COAL!

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You're my literary hero!

...brought up by a sadistic pedophiliac Pentecostal preacher father who only has one good arm and a decimated colon, and a narcoleptic mother with 17 cats who sucks down cases of Tab and reads the "Left Behind" books as nonfiction and who passes out every night in a Percocet haze watching endless reruns of "Knight Rider."

My college friend Russell Bates (the same guy who made the Rhino commercial I was in), has made a fucking hilarious short film about the man behind the President's speeches.

I don't know if it was shown on Comedy Central, but it was made for them.

http://www.hemispheresmagazine.com/fiction/2005/faulkner.htm

Condi wiped some spit on her hand and patted down my hair. Her hand was soft and she smelled like Xerox copies coming right out of the machine. “He looks just fine,” Condi said.