It flows like honey. Like honey mixed with liquid explosives, and just drizzled on a big ol’ pile o’ grits. Maybe with a side of cornbread, maybe with a side of C-4.
Honestly, are these commentaries any less boilerplate than the paint-by-numbers leftism of my new love interest? I’m thisclose to writing a Fred! parody. Opening line: “Now call me old fashioned, but a religion that condones blowin’ up women and children just ain’t a religion I’m fixin’ to be a part of.” Come on.