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More importantly, it would put an end to all the talk about Mr. Rove and that harlot, Jeff Gannon. Every time I think about it, I get this mental picture of Mr. Rove on all fours like Ned Beatty in Deliverance, his flabby flesh rippling and his belly and man-breasts bouncing in a rhythm dictated by Gannon's furious pounding and punctuated by Karl's calf-like bellows. I'd rather not have to picture that anymore.