Sinbad was crying and blubbering as the plane continued it's violent death-spirel, shaking and pitching wildly, the pilots' confidence and control wavering.

"We're all gonna die!" He finally screamed, and I wondered if Ron Brown acted like that before he crashed, forcing someone to shut him up by feeding him a .45 cal lead biscuit.

I slapped him, hard, looked around at the other fearful passengers and took charge.

"Stop the waterworks, you pussies!" I shouted,  "It takes a village to land one of these mothers, and right now I'm the Chieftess in charge!"

Turning to the pilot, I stared into his frightened visage and spoke with calm resolve, "Full flaps; power down throttle setting on the number two engine, straighten us out to a 090 heading. Got it?"

He nodded affirmatively, so I sat back down and completed my notes on the S2378 indigent insurance garruntee policy legislation I was sponsoring. It would be a long trip...

- excerpt from "My Summer Vacation" by H.R.Clinton

I once worked in an office run by a middle-aged women who had wanted, since she was a girl of 10, to lead people.  She couldn't be just laughably incompetent.  She felt compelled by her vision of leadership to impose really damaging executive decisions, sending the division into about 12 quarters of losing our asses until someone higher up the food chain became wise. 

I swear Hillary could be her sister.   If the Hildebeast is elected, I'm gonna have to find my helmet, drool cup, Haldol, and spend 4 hears in a rubber closet. 

THANK GOD YOUR HERE!!!  Wow that was a close one man!

Fucking please

You got it, Warden.  Nothing brave about flying a first generation fighter-interceptor.  Nothing requiring brains or guts or faste reflexes.

Sheryl's main enemy are the forces of FHPC, or the Fort Howard Paper Company.