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Snore....snore....snore...baked pat... something or other...snore...p.s.i. or something...

She's gorgeous, dumb, but gorgeous, yes, heh, heh, heh...wow, i just fell off my tricycle, paging Artie Johnson...

I've moved on...to squash, zucchini and/or plain ole yellow, mmmhhh.....

doncb,

Yer killin me...

A tranny-bomb, bwahahahahahaha!!!!

G26ster,

Yup!

troglodyte,

A baked po-tah-toe with cheddar cheese and green onions, hold the sour cream.

They're sensational!

The Mother of all po-tah-toes!!

I like potatoes.

Plus, calling it "the mother of..." reminds me of ole Saddam Hussein with his similar use of "the mother of" descriptor.

Don't like it, nope, don't like it at all...

Bunker Buster works for me and doesn't sound goofy.

Great question, but I think, it would be terribly difficult to count what ain't there...

If we're going to wring our hands at the expense of dropping bombs, let's look at the billion upon billions supporting the welfare state for the completely undeserving.

What?

Ah, yes, silence...