OJ Lyrics, Anyone?

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It’s too little, too late, but OJ’s finally going to do time. For that stupid, stupid Vegas robbery.

I bet OJ’s all kindsa pissed off. He’s getting zero points for not murdering all involved, including his fellow jackasses, the room service waiters, the maids on turn-down service, and any passing valets. At other hotels.

Sorry. I hate this guy and what the nation did to itself over someone so unworthy.

So, just to dance on the grave OJ will be buried alive in for at least 9 years, hows about a contest in very poor taste?

When I read the news, I immediately laughed since someone of his intellect is probably bemoaning not having killed all the witnesses. Which reminded me of Kenny Roger’s “Lucille” lyrics. Leaving aside my embarrassing but abiding love for country music, this song strikes me as the best way to laugh at OJ finally getting what he deserved.

So, write some killer kick-him-when-he’s down lyrics for the title “You Picked a Fine Time to Stop Killing, OJ.” (Or, ok, for any OJ song you like, party poopers), and I’ll send the best entry some MoJo swag.

C’mon. It’s Christmas time. Let’s not discriminate against us Grinches.

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PLEASE—BEFORE YOU CLICK AWAY!

“Lying.” “Disgusting.” “Scum.” “Slime.” “Corrupt.” “Enemy of the people.” Donald Trump has always made clear what he thinks of journalists. And it’s plain now that his administration intends to do everything it can to stop journalists from reporting things it doesn’t like—which is most things that are true.

We’ll say it loud and clear: At Mother Jones, no one gets to tell us what to publish or not publish, because no one owns our fiercely independent newsroom. But that also means we need to directly raise the resources it takes to keep our journalism alive. There’s only one way for that to happen, and it’s readers like you stepping up. Please do your part and help us reach our $150,000 membership goal by May 31.

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