I've been astonished since the beginning why local Chambers of Commerce were not fighting for the rights of their businesses to operate;
It is important to remember that, at the time, that time being December 2019 through March 2020, while most people were completely unaware of this, those who traveled at the most elite corridors of power were keenly aware that, when a critical mass of consciousness became aware that an entire city was being wiped out—believe it or not, 20 million dead in Wuhan is the story now, and the story
then, was "wow, look at all these videos popping up of people suddenly dropping to the ground while expectorating green lung tissue, wow, that's exactly what microwaved broccoli looks like, wow, imagine the smell, well, shit, that girl is gonna have to, because that is one smooth deep fake, look, you can see part of a whole piece of esophagus there, you can tell by the size of the visible veins, trust me on this"—Clark Kent was missing, Superman had been seen eating cold cherry soup with Batman in a San Francisco bathhouse, and some loser named "Klark Penny" was running all over the country, side from Hell, too cunty breakfast, kissing hands and shaking, babies and coughing, on
everything while simultaneously freebasing crack cocaine and shoving bored broad board game pieces up his ass
on the regular.And, Me? I didn't wash my hands even fucking
once except before and after sex. (Ewe, gross.) Screw you guys. I'm taking my perfectly functional immune system and my home, and going
ball. I don't really mind that none of you believe that I saved the world again-ever-because frankly, Larry, I can barely believe it myself.
Nevertheless, you're all still fuckin' here, ain'tcha? Lucky you. Lucky Me. Lucky US. (Now get your bitchass out into that kitchen, and teach someone how to make polenta. MY People call it A MAZE.)
Why any of this mattered to anyone remains to be seen—Superman & Batman are consenting adults, after all, and as long as Red Kryptonite is used sparingly, I see no reason why they can't join forces (after acquiring explicit consent) and paint the Bat-Dildo with some Red Aunty Matter mixed up in an old dirty ashtray with googly eyes stuck on the side... he's fucking Superman, obviously he can handle it, and it's fucking Batman, and did I mention—BATMAN IS FUCKING SUPERMAN. If the recipe called for something other than an ashtray, I am sure The World's Greatest Private Detective had a good reason for following instructions, you know, just that one fucking time. And because of that, we all had to wear face diapers, huh?
You know, if you want to be taken seriously, you people have to be seriously fucked in the head to think that
anyone is
ever gonna buy any of your bullshit ever again, Peanuts. Where's Hunter?
Where's Hunter's black PR team? Someone get Chole on the phone, have her re-task some satellites. I'll be right back, I gotta talk to Moses about an upcoming...
special delivery.No, not that Moses. The
other Moses. #PearlsBeforeSwine #PunylingPride #PROTOCOL(90*5)*10
p.s. The madman actually fucking did it. *click*