is your refrigerator running?

Because Mrs. Clinton still is.
It proves that regardless of the public opinion that she should drop out of the race like everybody else seems to be doing (you’re so close to becoming President, Mr. Nader!), the woman doesn’t know how to give up. Ah, just like a woman. I feel all warm and fuzzy inside knowing that, just like me, a female, Mrs. Clinton is a stubborn bitch. I feel so close to her now, like we’re best friends or something. Ma’am, since we’re practically besties now, can I call you Hilly? And when I’m talking about both you and your charming husband, can I merge your names and call you “Hill-Billy”? :)
Speaking of Hill-Billy, the second half recently said that “There's no better way to tell Hillary that you support her staying in than to make a contribution to her campaign.” Meaning: “Give us your money, and nobody gets hurt by my robot wife.” Gosh, golly, gee wiz, what a great best friend I have! Sorry Jane, you’re out, Hilly’s in. She’s got random people sending her checks, and… well, all you’re really good for is giggles. Sorry, man. I need a best friend with money constantly flowing in, who’s stubborn, bitchy, and possibly a robot.
This just in: proof that Hilly really is a robot! I swear to god, I’m not making this up. While in Indiana, my new bestie told us, “I think this election, particularly here in Indiana, is about jobs, jobs, jobs, jobs, jobs, jobs.” Obviously, a chip in her robot brain malfunctioned for a few moments, causing the woman to repeat the final word in her statement five times more than necessary. Case closed.
I also have a theory regarding our African-American friend, Mr. Obama. He has brought back Ken Kesey’s Acid Test parties from the sixties; doing a six-day tour in a possibly psychedelic bus throughout Pennsylvania (they’re pretty crazy up there). Mr. Obama was also playing with a Slinky in a wire factory, so the man must’ve been tripping off of something illegal. Can you smell that? It’s the scent of freedom-laced Kool-Aid.
Remember, don’t drink the pink punch.

[Lola.]