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presented without commentary

Marge Schott is dead. Last time I spoke ill of the dead, I caused all kinds of trouble. So, umm....yeah.


I just heard this on public radio. My, my... how the local news will be interesting tonight.

Did she leave anything to Pete in her will?

Not only will I speak ill of the dead, I occasionally hand out points and bonus prizes.

Just don't speak ill of Li'l Dead Girls, or you will be sqooked.

It was......it was.......soap poiiiiiiiiisoning!

Ding, Dong, the *itch is dead, the wicked *itch is dead (y'all fill in the asterisk with any consonant you feel appropriate).

My favorite Marge story told by a friend of mine who owns a dealership. (Full disclosure: Marge is a member of my parish). There was a Cincy area dealers lunch at the 5 star Maisonette in downtown Cincy. Marge arrived, handed her keys to the young man standing at the door and proceeded inside. Another person at the luncheon was complaining about the trouble he had finding parking. Marge told him, "I didn't have any problem. I just used the valet parking." The other people then told Marge that the Maisonette doesn't have valet parking for lunch hours, only dinner. She then walked to the window, looked down and said, "Oh fudge". Only she didn't say "fudge."

One less anti-semitic racist in the world, it breaks the heart.