"Where do I stand on the -- on the WHAT? The "Transgender Question"? Well for one thing, sir, I recall the last few usages of that particular phraseology. A group of millions is not a question -- I have not yet finished speaking -- not a question, but a demographic." 
"The Romans had their castrated priestesses, the Hindus their Hijras, but my god, let us take to the barricades because Uncle Al came to Thanksgiving in a skirt and pantyhose! It's the province of rubes. Hayseed reactionaries and the worst effluvia of America's suburban colon."
"And Chapelle! My god, Chapelle. Embarrassing as only a true great can become in his declining years -- I speak here with complete self-awareness; kindly hold your barbs -- as he tires of innovation and falls back into the soporific cushion of the lowest common denominator!"
"One joke stretched until you can hear its joints popping like some poor bastard broken on the rack. "Oh my car has pronouns, I identify as a bird, I'm trans-Chinese." The laziness of it -- shameful. You should see the transgendered roast themselves; there's true scorched earth."
Should Mr. LaMarche wish to contact us, we are available at our Boston offices weekdays during East Coast business hours.
I credit Dungeons & Dragons and @dick_nixon with any and all facility for imitation I may possess.
Mr. Welles and the president enjoy a cordial relationship.
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"I had not intended to mention Gervais -- one forgets the presence of rodents about one's feet so easily -- but the man insists on rearing up onto his haunches to squeak for the camera. A gerbil which has somehow mastered the projection of smugness. Repellent."
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