Wednesday, November 08, 2006


Every Wednesday night the people of Whispering Lakes would congregate together, sing a few songs, have a potluck supper, and set aflame an effigy of Gilbert Gottfried. No one outside the community understood the hostility toward the affable (albeit abrasive) comedian, but to the locals, tradition was tradition in Whispering Lakes - sort of like that marchy fire cross thing they did with the hoods.

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