Taller Than The Washington Monument

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A Fantasy Suite In The Lincoln Bedroom

The horse takes off and futilely attempts to secede from the others, but try as it might it just doesn't solve anything. Is this the primary mode of transport in Quebec City? I've never been there, and I don't see proof of any other travel possibilities, so it is possible, as far as I'm concerned, that Quebec City still lives with a decidedly "North, Miss Tessmacher"-esque approach to fighting through snow. Along the route, mercifully limited banter is heard. Jesse compliments Tara on looking "great," which she gobbles up like the first owner of her Russkie hat did to a stale crust of bread three weeks after someone yelled "Glasnost" and then the whole country kinda ran out of money for a while, there. "Thank you!" Tara almost screams, interested in reminding Jesse that there's someone else in the room, a usually overlooked fact for Jesse until he's ready to get his lay on. Jesse, skilled raconteur that he is, brings together the always date-appropriate topics of "your" and "father." Or maybe he's just trying to draw Tara's attention subliminally to the outsized needs of another man in her life who couldn't love her less or himself more: "How would your dad like it out here, you think?" I think he'd give it one point for every punchline Jeff Foxworthy has about snow. Tara, eager to distance herself from the caricature (not, like, the kind with the big head and the tiny roller skates, because I'll bet Jeff Foxworthy also doesn't have that many punchlines about Bar Mitzvah entertainment, either) her father cut for himself last week, climbs on the self-hating (or, as it was called when I was riding it, the "them-hating") train, falling into the trap, "I don't think they allow guns." Yes. Tara is the official archivist of all Canada, and guns are completely and entirely forbidden in the entire country. As are kegs, Entertainment Weekly, and dodgeball. Because whatever that bitch Queen says, goes. You should have seen the day she capriciously decided to ban Super Mélange, the delightful marriage of Cheetos, Doritos, Sun Chips, and pretzels once available only north of the border, just because she wanted to keep them all for herself. See? That's why it should be "God Attack The Queen.

Jesse and Tara conclude an uneventful carriage ride, in which the carriage ride is a metaphor for the season and the road they're on is a metaphor for the blank desolation of the "journey" and the porkpie hat is a metaphor for dumb hats and whatever the horse casually drops while it's walking is a metaphor for Rorschachian depictions of how I envision Jesse's face when I close my eyes. Anyway, Tara and Jesse step off the carriage and onto an empty ice-skating rink in a desolate part of town. Ah, tourist season comes to Quebec! They suit up in their skates, Tara noting in advance, "You're gonna laugh at me when I fall." Because an original thought from Jesse besides "Uhhhhh..." would totally compromise any and all consistency in his whole characterization at this point, the producers let him actualize into the Teddy Ruxpin doll we already knew he was, as he parrots back, "You're gonna be laughing at me when I fall!" Well, at least he had the good sense to prove his continuing slowness by tacking on a pointless form of the verb "to be." But maybe I'm not giving him enough credit; he must just be translating as he goes along, word for word from the original French-Canadian.

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