A President who negotiated with terrorists, illegally funded, armed and collaborated with the Iraqis in the Iran-Iraq War, funded a Latin American terrorist group then told the American people he did none of these things and when the truth came out he completely got away with all of it.
In return, he is seen as one of the greatest Presidents ever because of the surging economy regardless of the long-term impact to be had with the tripling of the national debt as well as his 'defeating' of the Soviet Union regardless of their financial failings since the 1960s and the social reform of the 1980s.
Bill Clinton was nearly impeached for lying about cheating on his wife. In comparison, Ronald Reagan got a mild slap on the wrist for funding nun-raping and village-destroying genocidal terrorists even after Congress passed legislation forbidding it and after telling the American people he did not do these things.
Usually called upon to clean up a mess another mobster has made. For instance: a gangster robs a store one night and comes back to base with a bullet in his stomach. A cleaner is quickly called-up and will be sent in to clear any sight of evidence, even if this means killing the store-keeper.
Elite cleaners are rarely found in the mobs/mafias/gangs etc., but instead apart of a government agency. Considering the drastic consequenced often involved with these agencies actions, elite cleaners are required. You never hear of them, and you rarely hear of what they have cleaned up. All that's left is the event: something happened, but the cleaner will make sure there are no trails left behind. Such cleaning jobs can be on a global scale, such as clearing a trail of money used to get the job done.
Ricky and Paulie murdered Kalinsky in an elevator. As soon as they stepped off a cleaner stepped in. When the elevator chimed at the top floor all that was left of the scene was a dead body and a pool of blood. With no evidence for the police to go on, the killers were never found.
Very uncommon misspelling of High School.
1) A place where teenagers put too much effort into something that will not matter a day after graduation.
2) A place where teenagers think they know it all; often starting unresearched arguments with equally clueless teenagers on world-politics while the teacher plays Solitaire and checks his/her e-mails.
3) A failure of an education system. By the last two years 90% of the students are no longer motivated and just want to get out of the mess. This stems from poor teachers, a poor and inconsistent curriculum (see: foreign languages), being in a shit-hole for a good portion of the past 730 days.
4) A place where there may be up to a hundred cliques, if not more. Members of these cliques cross-over into others frequently. It's all very confusing, but the "main" ones are often: Preps, Jocks, Stoners, Nerds, Normal.
"Hi school really sucked yesterday."
"'Hi school'? You said that wrong."
"It's 'High school'. Duh."
"How could you know how I spelt something I said?"
"The 'gh' isn't as silent as you think."
Company that makes and gives out cheap frisbees. You receive them in the mail constantly, and as you realize when you look outside and see your neighbors tossing 'em around, so does everyone else.
Have a strange, vast -- possibly-infinite -- supply of frisbees. Some rumors have it that the company went out of business in the 1790s, or perhaps after the War of 1812, and ever since have been dishing out their frisbees wherever possible: at gas-stations, malls, theaters, and, most commonly, in your own mail-box.
A strange defect was quickly found in the frisbees: if laid atop one another for too long (aka, stacked -- their most common appearance), they become glued together over time. This is where one can easily convert said frisbees into make-shift coasters and lay their soft-drinks on.
"Hey Bob, I got twenty-three frisbees today!"
"Wow, that's almost close to the record of a hundred-and-seventy-five!"
"Yeah! Too bad half of them are stuck together, though."
"Wait, you don't know about the coaster-trick?"
"The coaster trick?"
"Yeah, you put the frisbees on your desk and then put your drink on 'em."
"Wow, I never knew that!"
"The more you know, huh."
"Hey, Bob... I'm having a BBQ tomorrow, and..."
"I'm sure the family would love to!"
"Great! I'll call you tomorrow!"
As you can see, AOL also brings the community together.
To dance horribly in front of an easily-impressed crowd.
Friends don't let friends stomp.
Live above the yard.
The thing that keeps a helmet on your head.
Makes you look goofy, which is hard to do since you already have a helmet on your head and you're forty-seven.
"Bob... Bob, seriously."
"What now, Stan?"
"Bob... fucking unbuckle your chinstrap."
"Then what's the point of the helmet, Stan, huh, what then?"
"Then you fucking take the helmet off! You're an embarassment to men. Look, look at that five-year old over there. She's got a helmet on. Your forty-seven, Bob. Wait, just watch this... hey little girl?"
"What you old hags?"
"What do you think of this guy..." *thumbs over*
"The douchebag with that helmet?"
"Hey, I'm not a douchebag you little punk! And you have a helmet on too!"
"Um, yeah, because my mom tells me to; and it's also where I store my weed. Want some?"
"Fuck yeah, how much for a dime?"
Calling card of rich, white corporate execs.
Tony came into the room donning a $4,000 suit and equally expensive shoes. A tie that would choke the economy of an African village. Shades so expensive the sun goes behind a cloud.
Paul entered with equally money-sucking clothing.
They looked at each other, one putting his eight-grand-suitcase on the table. Then, calmly, cooly, they exchanged customary greeting:
Each "wazzup" backed by exaggerated tongue lashing and finger-hooking gesticulations. With it out of the way they quickly got down to the importance of TPS reports and this quarters profits.