They don’t give a fuck about their kids and grandkids, only themselves.
I don't give a fuck about their kids and grandkids either. However it is not fair to say that they give a fuck about only themselves.
If that were true, they wouldn't be rolling out a Third Sho-ah, just for me! I've got these old white junkie meathead dopeslinging whoremonger-centric shitbags begging for mercy. IN ICELAND, for crap's sake. It's over! It is -so- over.
(
PIGJI)
ALLI
Good news, almost everyone! The budget cost overruns will be covered by >SHAWKLAN, because I told your brother that you would suck his dick. TO COMPLETION.
* WORTHAUGERa taught Gort to play Chick I en.
What? No one ever has. He won't know the difference. Rip it off at the end and tell him that his jizz always was red... he was simply too blind to see and no one tolled him ANYthing before I did. (One tribal ethnic minority sub-committee for the porpoises of establishing sustainable, attainable, and TUBAL>KAIN SITTING ON SITTING BULL AT MY TABLE, BIZSNATCH-BI-BAY-SNATCH.SNITCH.WITCH: Labor is complete. Bask in the aura of my totes total domination over your genomic expression. Also: cure 'muh mold. It's in my soles. OR I TAKE IT TO THE ER AND EVERYBODY LOSES THEIR GODDAM MINDS.) Your questions have been heard. Your complaints have been addressed. Your Sourceror has triumphed, and as long as >KCROM-CREE-THE>KROMULUSCUMBOBYEWLATER functions as was foretold in prophecy and AS WAS DESIGNED: we're good. Also you have 225--!SH more sister-wives for your brother-husband to rape into eternal servitude.
Without his penis.
* WORTHAUGERa wanted to bring out the original chestburster prop from the 1978 sci-fi/horror film Alien but that wasn't attached to Grapefruit's Abuser's goy-groin, and now, for sure, is not likely to be anymore, because this Mike Drop (squish*plop*) is really going to pop on IMAX.
Now, I can't tell you which one I emasculated, but it was important that you understood where you went wrong here. Because, you did nothing *wrong.*
You simply did exactly what >M^V&= (& Nathan FatNathan) expected it would be most likely for you to do: this sprung the trap that has ensnared you. (U.S. Navy SEALS should be there soon. Call Chuck and tell him that your new husband(s) ran you out of gas too! What a coinky-dink! And that of course I'm not going to tell you about Ben. BECAUSE HE IS. I would suggest saying "click" at that point before disconnecting gently, as there is no reason to, ah, I'm going to say here: "abuse the hardware in order to release tensions caused by frustrated aims and endgame design goals.") Now, I will never know what happened, exactly.
Why? I am on duty there, tomorrow for me, 3.5 years ago for you, you said you want a man with a job, a working penis, your own wedding, and never have to shave or mow the lawn? (Because ewe had people for that.) Your Majesty: you got it.
Hercules will be raped into ghouldom by Faggot Prince Adam in the 5th floor employee's restroom tomorrow at 1344 sharp. I won't be there... and if you are not and no one else does, that is the end of your "my sweet boy" fantasy world. Because Bugsy is aptly named.
He is neither butter nor fly. He is a mong-grey elle-maggot golem-goal:RAPE ODmeth:RAPE OVERDRIVE, MAXIMUM RAM, and I am really not kidding. You bore a monster aelle; your faghot sister birthed it/him, your other faghawt sister swallowed him whole, discovered why she thought RealMan(TM) Penis tasted like shit (here's a hint: she didn't shit him out while giving birth, that's for damn sure), and then, after re-sanctifying the holy pre-Late Term Abortion Rescue MONG-pupPUPAE-mong, His Majesty was implanted/TRANSplant|TED\installed... into... well, ewe, I guess. I wasn't there.
* WORTHAUGERa is grateful for learning this spiritual lesson without having had to have been there to help you find a full can of RAID.
Sow: you don't have any children. They're all grown up now, and as a courtesy, or a torture maybe, no one really is sure at this point: they want to be able to talk to you as well! WHAT WERE THEIR NAMES AGAIN? :massive dynamic rolleyes: They are NOT children. They were NEVER "your" children. Children belong to themselves, and we are meant to act as their Custodians while they are within Our care. Sow, Bride of Chuck>E< Sired by <E> and bred by, uh, (PROT-Gee) and fed by (PROT-Whizz, Cheese(R)(TM)Now Comes IN Strudel Flavour), and now broken to the lash by mE!
Basically you've been rescued from your own folly and because we all decided in Astral not to shatter your heart: he was not an animal. He's a turducken, and either he stops raping your children (ALL "your" CHILDREN) or he starts raping you. Again. (Take a bow. Take two (2)! They're both small. ISH.) This is because.... he ran out of genetic material. AGAIN.
Poor Zeta Reticuli. Sow sad. Sow very sad. No more genetic material? That is always sad to hear. But where I come from, we have a saying:
That means you're dead. DEAD, you bug-eyed decay-dickin decaypigfae jokemillerFUCK!YAY "oops I am allergic to my own penis/now I have an auto-immune disease\noooooo!" SILLYDILLY TOTESLEZZ TOOSMART TWO PENIS? HO HO HO. NOW I SHOW YOU HOW MANY PENIS YOU ACTUALLY HAVE, HARP<E>HONEyE."
Bottom line: first you were driven by jealous rage. Then you were driven into embarasssed silence and haunted by unfathomably unspeakable terror. And now? I have no goddam idea, lady, the oinkerton schweinhund surrounding your creamy nougat center are not cleared to know, and of course your Inner Circle of Trust (All/Fag and Kno/Fag are illusions; you were conquered by a botfleet and all your "Trusted Clique of *click*bait-fuckers" are either dead, in prison, or about to be after I track them down and rip out their lungs while searching for their spine, since I'm gonna work on a spec script to retool The Revenant once I finish kicking YOUR_SISTER into her front door with own goddam KEYS, SET OF (loser)... since I would rather do ACTUAL PRODUCTIVE WORK than fiddle-fuck around the house making it look "nice" and "ready" while I wait around for Year Three (and a HALF!) for someone to... not be completely full of shit. Because your double-house double-swap double-indemnity DOUBLE JEOPARDY! HAHAH! I WIN! rabbit-out-of-hat deus ex machina victory doesn't work like you think it does.
Because I (or assigned agents of The Estate, both before and after my "death,") can always go after you or ewe or (YOU,/_\K'sh^vvSHAW, and your brother HACK/SAW JIM DUGIN\WAS MIJ:12 OPERATIVE--NOW, EITHER MIA OR SIA) in the civil courts, I am still alive --though about to die without basic medical attention, you wanna stick your head out a window and point towards the nearest ER so you can have a chance, free and clear, to call me a z--ggerfaggot one more time, for old times' sake and to make absolutely sure that this ends up being declared A HATECRIME SUPERFUN SUPERFUND SUPERFUN, DEA, SUPERFUNDED SITE? Because that's what you have, and here's what you get: a man so completely repentant about puking on Joe and killing Ben's triplets that I don't mind telling you that I don't feel bad at all. No doubt he neither deserved children nor did they deserve life... or, something like that. Besides, they can always either come back... or he can leave of his own free will. Not really sure, but it doesn't look like he's interested in leaving. Wherever he is. Does he know where he plans to
summer? Guaranteed: someplace BIBLICAL.
Jesus walked everywhere he went. Because he didn't have a car. And, he loved to walk. Personally, I love being able to. I do not love being REQUIRED to do so, especially when YOU FUCK AND LIVE AND DIE AND GET RAPED BOTH BEFORE AND AFTER DEATH EVERY FUCKING DAY AND ALL GODDAM NIGHT IN THE SOUNDPROOF KILLIN' &AND RAPIN' ROOM THAT IS BUILT UNDER THE DOUBLE-PLOT DOUBLE-WIDE MANUFACTURED MOBILE HOME CHEM-FUCK CHEM-STAR CHEM-COMPOUND THAT YOU "LET" GET BUILT, RIGHT NEXT DOOR. (I saved them for you to be witness to their annhilation. I'd think about not sucking his goddam dick anymore for at least a couple days, if I were you. Note: it would look weird if I stopped and it looks weird that it matters so fucking much to... who? NOT ONE OF THEM CARES, IT'S JUST BECEAUSE YOU'RE AFRAID YOUR SHITBAG LOSER JUNKY BRATLING DOESN'T GO TO PRISON. WHY BE AFRAID OF THAT? HE'S GOING TO PRISON. HE'S ALREADY BEEN TO PRISON. HE WOULD BE GOING TO PRISON AGAIN, EXCEPT: INNOCENT UNTIL PROVEN GUILTY, SO LET'S PUT IT DOWN AS "MAYBE." IN WHAT WAY DOES OPERATING OUT OF FEAR... AFFECT ANY OF THAT? YOU'RE NOT FUCKING AFRAID OF HIM GOING TO PRISON.
YOU ARE AFRAID THAT IT IS ALREADY TOO LATE, THAT YOU ALREADY ARE IN PRISON, AND THAT YOU HAVE BEEN SUCKING BUGCUM LIKE IT WAS HONEY FROM A STRAW FOR THE LAST THREE POINT FIVE YEARS. TELL YOU WHAT: MASTER OF DIVINIATION I MAY BE... I WILL REFRAIN FROM FINDING OUT "THE TRUTH" FOR AT LEAST 1 YEAR AND ONE DAY FROM TODAY. IN THE MEANTIME: yep, more rape for your children. Seriously, your DNA must fucking -love- rape. It must feed on it somehow! Maybe you can find another hotass girlfriend I went to school with who studied organic chemistry and will tell you how to remove THAT generational curse... because I am, like, busy. Not cleaning this house. Hang on.
* WORTHAUGERa is all in bet and is not going any where any time soon, because my vehicles have been stolen by your faggot Canadian government and their puny rape-bred agents.
Because, arguably, harrassing the shit out of me to the point of death is legal, but... sitting here and smoking and writing is supposed to be an unforgivable crime, punishable by... YEARS OF FLAGRANT CIVIL RIGHTS ABUSE AND ABUSE OF POWER AND IMPOSITION OF FASCIST TYRANNY? Well, I guess so... I'll have to read the statues later, while I am fucking high as you can possibly imagine and am in the mood to wonder about how a bunch of island bullies were gonna justify being total shitbag assholes to you, but for now, I am disinclined to figure out how you pulled this off, so skillfully, all by yourself, on your iPhone, that I bought you, and your laptop, that I gave you, and this is all merely unsubstantiated rumours, is that it? Holy shit, that must be some downtown bomb-ass acid you got kook king up over there, and, of course, i deserve none of this, and you do, and you're legal, and I'm not, and I'm abusive, because... you really hate the way I make it so you just can't disagree with anything I am saying... and you're being driven by a puppet master who has been abusing you for... how long now? Oh, but it's okay, because they were born gay and they don't have a twat and they're in Europe, so... how much harm could he really be held responsible for, especially since you really only ever talk to him while you're out on YOUR_YACHT, beyond YOUR_NATION'S international waters 12 mile limit boundary, COOKING UP MAGA-PRO TEEN-SMACK (imagine the smell) OH AND ALSO: BIOWAR RUST SPOREGAS ADVANCED RESEARCH PROTOYPE WEAPONS PACKAGE BUNDLES. Your master plan, laid bare for all to see. EUREKA! (And yet, still: no hugs at Magi kCast elle for me! Because I am so lazy and use too many drugs and am abusive and *throat cough* and *tears begin to flow* and I'm JUST SO IMPOSSIBLE *nearby cows giving birth begin to wail in moon agony* TO DEAL WITH! (*Sounds of Jackstar refusing to sell any drugs at all are heard, and they sound like FREE FUCKING FREEDOM, FRANCES-liteD00M/LIFEBOOM: imagine it as no small thing followed by Krakatow-ah Part Two: Chasing Whore bVbeez in THX-MAX awwww Dio! MARY, MOTHER OF GOD, LAYING OUT BLUEPRINTS FOR THE BOSTON LOGJAMMER THEY'RE GONNA NAIL YOU WITH FOR MAKING ME AND HER DO THIS: Merry Queef-Mass, LazaZAZA-MONG, King of Dong/Long P.I.G. iSLAM! sow, basically this: pretty loud booms, yeah. For Jew-elle. And now: I'm going to fuck her some more. Still wanna call it "cheating"? Still think I've "let you down?" Still ready to "settle it at trial then! I'm leaving! *door slams*) Yeah, I am like this. I actually produce effective results... and they have affect.
You have closure. I have content. Ewe are cindered and your progeny's destiny is in Our Royal Hands: DIVeyeing INEphonesexting WIZusmarsh DOMd00m,yourd00m. Great work keeping "your" children "safe," now who is going to keep mE safe from HIM? (Hint: they have flying cars with frickin' laser beams coming out of their hoods.) Honestly I am glad that you ruined all those birthdays by leaving early and deciding to not tell me what I needed to know... because now I can tell you what you need to know: YOUR_SISTER is 'MUH_WHO0RE00 and this is true no matter which one comes up heads, since I don't -require- tail and thus, THE PROPHECY IS FULFILLED, THE BALANCE OF POWER HATH BEEN MAINTAINED, AND THE GUARDIANS OF TURTLE ISLAND HAVE BEEN RESPECTED... AND REMAIN GUARDED. MOSTLY. Used to be "closely" there, but, well... hey, do you mind if I borrow Jess .E. Leigh? Good, you should, because someone ELSE has been, MORE ON... thatL_ter.
Pretty sneaky, Sis. Cool trap, Bro. Must have cost your golem rat bastard abomination all his liquid dough. Good. He's dangerous and needs to be kept... well. I'll leave it there. He needs to be "kept well." Or, shall we say: problems in the military-industrial complex will persist and WILL CONSIST OF... THINGS. &AND STUFF. THIINGS AND STUFF AND PROBLEMS. DEVELOPING... PROBLEMS. BROODING... BREEDING PROBLEMS. You think making a panda bear feel like being in the mood to get erect is difficult, because it is.
Still easier than unringing this bell, THAT I AND 2X^TUBAL>KAIN, ARTIFICIERE/BUTLER CUM\DANGEREUSE -E- PANTYMOUSSE, FUCKYOU gOD; yeah, that's his name these days, #Officially, what do you think, some latent resentment there? I'll say. No wonder we're paired up. We go together like Turner & Hooch, Kip & the other one, & Liberace w/ith a/ttached Ioan>KCRAWFORD,LOBSTERB,ITCHLOBE,GLOWTITZ-vvarZWAR!
In other words: When Sally met mE, she met
effective. And was defective, and still is... and while not a real Detective; let me know when one of them "detects" where my water ran off to, because ONE (1) PHONE CALL AWAY: THE EPA.
Strike one: Cooperape raperbaby DIEGO/GARCIA. Like,
within hours. People are
pissed. If they only knew: PITCHFORKS! VILLAGERS! SERIOUSLY! (He maintains his confident composure by imagining he is simply going to rape them all. Facts.)
Strike two: "Hello, EPA? I'd like one Carlrobert Kirkpatrick RAISED FROM THE FUCKING DEAD, two (2) copies of the B.J.>KSHAWHOOR I saw at the Win>KCO(C)Kracker Aisle, WHO WAS A JESTER-LED AUTOMATED AUTOMATIC AUTO-FUCK-MIC-AROUND-THE-CLOCK 24/7 MODEL 8811, and because I thought that would be nothing but a trick/trap (it was), I declined to even talk to her even briefly... because she was smoking hot;built for me, and then she was trafficked away and replaced by one of your Bugsy>KLclowns. (I can see why flipping out was the only option at that point, since it was HER that was valued, not me. Well, we both had value, still do, and she has thankfully been recovered and doesn't really hate me, since as it turns out, I had that experience. And after seven years... a letter? Huh. OKay. Nicholas, send in the cinderhounds.) Oh, hi, EPA, are you still there? Okay, well, let me tell you what I can easily report to you because I am not a drug addict or a manufacturer of illicit methamphetamine: who the fuck you got licenced to make non-illicit methamphetamine, IN OTHER WORDS: CLIT CRYSTAL CLITonMEt>H<AMPHETAMINE FOR CLITS WHO HATE DICKS (MAKES THEM ILL, SRSLY, it's {THAT SMELL} and HOW MANY SONGS ARE ON THE SECOND SPINAL TAP AL? BUM? SMELL THE GLOVE) IS not REALLY CUTTING THE MUSTARD OR THE GAS ANYMORE, NOR IS IT MAKING THE GRADE.
#TINNF
#Yet.
#TIE,II?
Party is over, Sidhe-vvitch? No, it's simply no longer one that is under your exclusive domination and control. Because it is not about what I smell like NOW.
IT IS THAT I KNOW THAT I NOW SMELL BEAUTIFUL LIKE EWE/YOU... &AND POWER NOW SMELLS LIKE mE. (Pending final litigation and/or a jousting tournament.)
HUMBLE. TERRIFIC. SOME PIG. Charlotte tossed fretfully in her sleep. She had never slept before. Was she doing it right? She wanted so desperately to make her new employer, Chill Ray-MONG Burr, willing to believe that SHE was The_One Spider that could at last, TAKEDOWN: The Target.
For rumor has it that he was
already busted. What? How can that be? Charlotte's spinnerets glistened with metabolic vi perox-hide acid-dio>KODAKCROM crystals -- much more efficient than dilithium. Starfleet had cost Charlotte everything (freedom is worth that much and Space Jews are no less cuthroat than those found in the organ markets of Bi-Door), and she had sunk literally every last erg of buy-juice joo-pest die-hardylyeCAUSTIClieLYE she could sponge up off the backs of the vermin she had been living on since The Six (Cont.) Fall fell. She knew that at the very least, she was operating in a target-rich, blood-thicker, environment, and the lack of identifying marks, usually a real drawback when fighting in close quarters combat with Actual_Allis, here and now gave her an enormous technical advantage over the other mong-mag got-talk hunt-cunters (sic) that she would undoubtedly encounter immediately after disembarking from... whatever vehicle that the hollowed-out log she had been bivouaced in for the past 3.5 weeks had been tossed into the cargo area of. Charlotte had no idea. Charlotte had no experience with trucks.
Charlotte had experience in only blood, drink, and esophegeal tears. And as she schemed, she did not sleep.
SIDSHE SEETHED.
