August 15, 2005

• What? Entrust the country to a man who said "Sometimes when I'm driving... on the road at night... I see two headlights coming toward me. Fast. I have this sudden impulse to turn the wheel quickly, head-on into the oncoming car. I can anticipate the explosion. The sound of shattering glass. The... flames rising out of the flowing gasoline." THAT Christopher Walken? Aah, sure, what the hell! Colonel Angus for Commander-in-Chief!
• It's a hoax.
• Slowest. site. ever.
• Has to be a hoax.
• Hoax it is, as chyren stated and as djryan suspects... the questions become now.. Did Freen know it was a hoax? Did he know how S....L....O....W the site is (when it loads at all). Was Freen trying to fool us? Was Freen trying to amuse us? Did Freen find the site amusing? Did he think we would find this amusing? Will Freen be disappointed when he learns it was a hoax? Why did Freen post this?
• If it is not a hoax, I would be willing to support him. I have read and heard numerous interviews with Walken, who is a witty, erudite, thoughtful person. Even if it is a hoax, he should be drafted to run--the last actor to hold the presidency did not have half the talent of CW, and the guy who is in there now has grown completely out of touch--if he was ever in touch-with the vast majority of America.

• This watch was on your Daddy's wrist when he was shot down over Hanoi. He was captured and put in a Vietnamese prison camp. Now he knew if the gooks ever saw the watch it's be confiscated. The way your Daddy looked at it, that watch was your birthright. And he'd be damned if and slopeheads were gonna put their greasy yella hands on his boy's birthright. So he hid it in the one place he knew he could hide somethin'. His ass. Five long years, he wore this watch up his ass. Then when he died of disentary, he gave me the watch. I hid with uncomfortable hunk of metal up my ass for two years. Then, after seven years, I was sent home to my family. And now, little man, I give the watch to you.

• We could do a whole lot worse. In fact, we did. I'd vote for him. Hell, I'll vote for him right now. Let's get this over with.
• That's crazy. No one from Verona, New Jersey could ever be president.
• What? Entrust the country to a man who said "Sometimes when I'm driving... on the road at night... I see two headlights coming toward me. Fast. I have this sudden impulse to turn the wheel quickly, head-on into the oncoming car. I can anticipate the explosion. The sound of shattering glass. The... flames rising out of the flowing gasoline." At least we'd all know what to expect. Scharzweener hasn't got a chance against him! Tap-dancing in 2008! Yeah!
• He'd have my vote.
• He'll have your vote or else.
• ...or else he'll stab you in the face with a soldering iron.
• He's in your garage right now, waiting for you to get the lawn mower.
• It would certainly make the State of the Union Address more interesting.
• I'd go for a Max Zorin type of Walken presidency, myself. Take world leaders up in Marine 1, open the door, say "anyone else want to drop out of my peace plan?" Heh heh. Pax Walkena. Sweet.
• Scooch closer, children. Don't make me tell you again about the scooching. Did I say I loved me some Patrick Warburton the other day? I meant to say I love me some Walken. I'd so become a US citizen if he was president for life. (I think maybe I should have joined Fark.)
• I thought it was amusing. Hoax or not. I love christopher walken. sorry...
• Also note : One does not just Walken to mordor
• I'd suggest a name or two for VP, but we won't be needing one. Walken's pretty indestructable.
• Still, you know the Fark Party would insist on Wheaton as VP.
• I was so bummed when I found out it wasn't true. I love Walken. That oddball would be an awesome president. He'd definitely have my vote.
• well the site loaded fine for me so he's got my vote!
• I, alas, am not a US citizen. But if were, I'd vote for Walken. Oh, yes, I would.
• Well, there's no hoax about General Zod being on the ticket.

• What? Entrust the country to a man who said "Sometimes when I'm driving... on the road at night... I see two headlights coming toward me. Fast. I have this sudden impulse to turn the wheel quickly, head-on into the oncoming car. I can anticipate the explosion. The sound of shattering glass. The... flames rising out of the flowing gasoline."

  Seriously... hasn't everyone thought along these lines at some point in their lives? I know I have, but that doesn't mean I'd actually do it.
• Particularly when he was just playing a part and those words were in the script.
• I can't catch the tube without at least once thinking, in an abstract way, of throwing myself under it. KITFISTO FOR PRESIDENT!!!! Mind you, I always want to play with the little grubby mice that skitter amongst the rails too, but never do.
• Script schmipt.
• (And I'll admit, I've often thought of throwing kitfisto onto the tracks as well. Just a private little fantasy of mine. Well, not so private anymore, I suppose. But I'll still support his nomination. After all, Walken needs to go nutso on some rival or other...)
• We could be running mates, kitfisto. Sometimes I fantasize about jumping off the bridge into the river. The filthy mice though, that's just sick.
• Capt - you are me! And those filthy mice are my friends. I hear them singing to me from the track well - Kit, Kit, they say, come play with us...
• Oh, and just to be clear: KITFISTO FOR PRESIDENT!!!!!
• Aww MAN, I always have to be you -- it's never the other way around... But I hear you on the mice. Rather, I hear the mice too. But I prefer the rats. Especially the ones at 149th-Grand Concourse. They're so admirable and industrious, managing to survive in such oppressive conditions... I just want to take them home and give them a nice bath. I'd have to wear gloves of mail for the first couple weeks, let Bitey and Chewey get used to me and their new life of luxury... The mice at Union Square, well, they're nice and all, but they have it pretty easy compared to the rats in the Bronx. Not nearly as sympathetic.
• When I'm PRESIDENT, I shall have an army of trained, grubby ex-underground mice to do my bidding. Weapons of Mice Destruction, you might say. Thank you, I'm here all week
• You forgot the Bu-wa-haha.
• Ooo! Ooo! Wait, I've got one -- at least when the world fails to find your Weapons of Mice Destruction, you can always say 'of course not, they're too SMALL!' (Allright, I admit, I don't got one...)
• There there. I / we / you all have our off days...
• And I need to report to you that the State of Our Union . . . needs more cowbell! /nothin'
• Ho4X0R3d!
• I hear them singing to me from the track well - Kit, Kit, they say, come play with us... Hearing voices? Well, then you're porperly qualified for the Presidential post!
• And I porperly qualified for the Ministry of Dyslexia, of course. Damn.
• porperly qualified has a nice ring to it. It will join my lexicon. WHEN I AM PRESIDENT!!!!!
• /pauperly qualified
• as pauperly qualified as a churchmouse?