14 October 2013


The fires of Romulus are starting to take hold, it seems, as a horrid yenta named Maureen, not a fat chick in sight, returns to her villain Chaney, to fill up meaningless words in a rag unnoticed any longer. The shameless monsters come falling down to their tin feet, shattering and breaking into parts. Rothliebnegfere is openly mocked on national radio by gals recalling various waitresses and bus boys and others the five easy pieces quarterback, the Nora Desmond of the nfl, spat at, while hung to by local yokels, as they were dissed by fat men, and is at 0 and autumn, though again like all Narcissuses, blames someone anyone else’s--which deflates the purpose. Romo now collapses a season from when he usually does, as real Cowboys like Prime time calls him the real Tony Romo, and it isn’t a compliment. Mister Mind Bellicheck is in a situation no amount of surveillance can get him out of, and Brady fusses through the remains of the monument of Cosell to act petulantly and sissified, without a Howard in the booth to dramatically ask what is meant by such as this…? Ah, but the operatic has been replaced by the sarcastic, never a wise career move. The Tea party as much a GE cartoon as drones which tumble out of the sky and burn not only Korans, but humans at Ramadan festivals unnoticed by the good folks at liberal television, they do keep their unread Korans pristine though, has eaten up the government, in ways unthinkably as done to LBJ, Clinton or even Nixon, BY a affirmative action clever cur who didn’t realize that no wants to know the Caesar of the east is held hostage, by Cleopatra or by hicks of the hinterlands. Jewey Johnny now sandbags Sibelius with his Long Island charm, having seen the numbers game as Arsenio takes ways the whooper’s, and now become less a water carrier than a man of the people, while his rival Olbermann, bless him, sees bread and circus as the road to recovery. The outage of food stamp availability told the Doges what it always has since the death of beloved Cattiline. And Keith gives great Cosell like highlights. And again, I was first to warn of Romans candles and how both Christ and Aeneas calm the seas in their various myths lest they look like sewers of discord, Render unto whom…?, and again with me it has less the insinuated theatre and nastiness’ of spittoons who speak to and for an assembly of vulgar queens. The same paper who said that anger by the sons of Italy and Jdl, no less, to the sopranos was overdone, now cries alone for Redskins, as names like Cowboy and Viking, those killers of western civilization are left sacrosanct. When that story peters out it will mean that Danny Claus has given various in laws and cugiens in the press the little extra this pay envelope they were hoping for. No less than our national tear duct, Elvish crusader, Hobbit triumphant Bob Costas is on the case, lecturing 'bout the poor pitiful Etrus--Injins, having come a long way since that Sunday night when Cosell died and he trashed him that night for three hours as being pushy , although who would enact rhapsodizing about the in field fly rule to be their epitaph. And Boo Boo kitty at GE wants a senate investigation, as they always do when unneeded and showy, into why she is being bludgeoned by dishwater fox Megan, an asserter like so much in Tacitus, in that Sejanus said one wont want to be the last hatchet man left to a hated king, right before his own sacrificing. To Top our shit sundae, Obama the magnificent, Erkle triumphant, is in the ditch, the sun chariot a sickbed, once a white curriculum of light now shattered and strewn across the south pole, as Ovid amusingly reports, dead star horse meat around him, in his Bo Jangles fog, and leis and 37 percent, menacing someone wants another go with that non vetoing robo pen, or else…I am glad to see the physics of Italian geniuses prove true again, as all the queens horses and all the queens men--do my gay slurs give me a show on cable , no…?, huff and puff and all the fairy tale tropes were Italians first as Grimm’s admitted. So while the spiders make their nests at time at Wal-Mart and the mob wilds for food amid the plasmas screens ,I say goodnight unto you all and Happy Columbus day, again. The trailer for Wop like me.




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