young lady in tank top: “So what do you think — does that guy like the earth or what?”
young man in t-shirt: “Yeah — though if I had to guess, I’d say he likes pastry just a teensy bit more.”
young lady in tank top: “Well, to be fair, you can’t really save the planet without a healthy reserve of carbs, can you? Think of it as alternative fuel.”
young lady in tank top: “– But yeah, it sure does look like Al’s been trading his carbon credits for some 16″ Papa John’s double cheese and sausages.”
young man in t-shirt: “His pants have died for our sins. God bless ’em…”
A Chilean SeaBass lightly poached in white wine and lemon juice: “If it was up to me I’d have him stick to pizza, cause this whole hypocrisy thing isn’t working out so well for me and my family…..”
If you walk around with a lectern in front of you, it’s not as noticable.
A Random Carbon Credit Riding Around in Gore’s Wallet: “Agh! Aaagghhh! Can’t… BREATHE!!!”
Carbs? I’ve thought the Algoracle weight was the predictable result of inhaling all that sanctimony and/or the bloating from excessive self regard.
True, Kelly, and it’s also the inhaling of all the smug emissions of his followers.