Any kind, provided you forget the McRib.

So is putting your hand on the stove. But welcome to the neighborhood!

Just to clarify: he will wait to do this until after his brains are intact?

His father was the Bishop who gave Alexander Hamilton his Last Rites. He didn't want to, as he disapproved of dueling, but Hamilton's friends convinced him that he had repented on the way home. Making him the first, but by no means the last, person to ask forgiveness for their sins in New Jersey.

The story could read "President reveals that he doesn't know what his own agenda is until he talks to someone else who will tell him what to do."

All well and good, but it still sounds to me like the background music for a TV commercial for a prescription antidepressant.

Why did she believe her? Bondi's realty to the Orange Horror was well-known.

Do you seriously think that he could have negotiated a "peace" treaty with Russia that did not call for total capitulation and the eventual absorption of Ukraine into Russia?

Which is why I always roll my eyes at the pictures of clothes from back in the day that generate the "ooh, how ugly! comments. Folks, back in 1972, those plaid bell bottom hip huggers were le dernier cri.

He was always just an empty vessel, waiting to have his opinions and positions poured into him. This is what it nets you.

Which is why I never read newspaper articles that have the words "higher education" or "colleges and universities" in their headlines. Those articles have about as much relevance to the real world as the lifestyle articles in Town and Country.

Often, that one book is a volume about local history, published by a local press ("How highway 55 Came to Hurleyburg").

Project Gutenberg is cheaper still, but you'll be dealing with old fashioned translations.