” Oh Gina. Oh sweet, glistening Gina. Or should I say Regina, for truly are you the queen of my (Rine)heart. Lucky do I count myself to be living in a time where your towering presence so dominates the landscape, where your wisdom spews forth like so many broken levees, torrential and unabashed, where your money remains firmly walled up in a giant tower of self-concern, safe once and for all from the muttering peasants below.
Oh Gina. Oh noble, quivering Gina. How do I love you? Let me count the ways…”