02 November 2015

ROMANSPLAINING.


  1. The return of the lovely show Gilmore Girls to the airs recalls in me a bittersweet recollection of things, as already this time of year solicited in almost all of us. Unfortunately a death Holiday of barbarians and its anti catholic learning's is foremost now, as we all become German now and drink and sing drinking songs and leer at side of beef fat women loved by Negros and drink and drink some more, as sex and death are, as they always were in Italay, combined but as usual in a Lutheran minded dump, such as America we must preen and pretend that somehow if some are accountable at all.

As the Christmas tree was somehow invented by Martin Luther, who destroyed far too much to ever have invented anything,as all reformers at heart always are. Thus the closest Italic holiday to this Oktoberfest was the more logical Prima Vera holiday of carnival, which of course can always bother the white in laws as all does until they are told, or maybe just get the scent in the winds to knock it off. In that Venetian holiday there are dancing green sex angels and deja Thorisies, and Jane's, and wonder women, an Italian cartoon as much as anything, and according ghosts and such things as wayward skeletons men and feather boas and masques and all, but it is all far too playbilled for land where Bush and Clinton, speaking of death, bumble and stumble their ways to Pretoria, with both having to tell us again, if you heard my denouncement or demeaning the troops, or, if you heard me say I had better things to do than be Caesar, well, let CNN explain it for me with foreheads speaking and mumbles Gergan to always let Andie poo and his women feel like the flood waters haven't yet reached this high, speaking of Venice, as I was.

The program is on in the evening, allowing me to not bother watching bumbling house everything's like Bushie and Hillary stab and burble and trip and sideshow and slapstick their way to Coriolanus' cathedral, as it is a nice respite from your usual garbage and water carrying. No one quite like Lauren Graham or her daughter is shown anymore, or God knows, as the great Liza Wheile, well such a driving bitch is out of the audition now that we have all become lovers of Barbie and flamage as we we're all meant to.

It recalls in me being a student myself, become such a venue was trashed into being the venue for wizards, which has always bothered me, as a harrow for wizards always rubbed me the wrong way, as always saw wizardry in it italic form, mostly ignored by Miss whatshername in the carneige tower, explaining for somehow all these English wizards reciting Latin , though and I haven't watched most of it, but found it funny, no one there ever seems to teach it, no one ever seems to speak about how they are doing well or bad at say Latin 101, or is it like it was for so long, was it the gist that they got, recurring the language of Virgil into mere babbling Mantra. All which after all, is the absence of language, as was said by Calvino, which again was another reason white women disperse of him and his italic sonnets like Galileo's, to the arms length moon.

It was a kinder sweeter world in the early 2000'S before the first of many Bushier tries at Vidal's 1876, and stolen republics, which by now have become old hat and boring, always death in a circus, kneecapping, sorry explaining why the boys and wifely Clintty are having such a bad go of it. As the whole world isn't Harvard, something the priests advised me, aback when. As you Jews can yuck and guffaw it up will you want and this is truer an exclamation I must sued when not talking about shictlkle, like the size of my cock, also all true, even still, I must place here that this is true when I feel it is an important exclamation in explainable Roman hyjinx to you all. In 1975, my father, prematurely proud of me before the fall, was in his store with his buddies and a local rabbi came in to wish my dad a marry Christmas, as I said, we had yet to became so, whats the word...?, Skoakie about things, and my father and Italianate and not Sicilian, all the difference in the world, wasn't uppity about anything as he was friends with the local Lutherans Jews, blacks whatever, it was only the wops on Mount Verona here, who'd I come to know and hate, who made a point of their Tanacerto like retardation, sorry admiration, for the razea they think they are allowed into, for the race, which of course, is never allowed, by anyone with a dangling vowel, unless of course, HBO needs cover for a new gumba show between high holidays.

The rabbi was impressed I recall by my Superman, drawn then that my Jesuit trained farther saw and hung up as it was a superman one scintilla from being drawn by a queer, it summed, as he was such a paragon of power, unlike the dick who vandalized the moon when he thought he as dying in the what if machine. The rabbi told my dad, Jim, he said, you know, your boy here has a better chance of getting into Harvard than any of my kids do, even as an Italian he said, not entirely meanly, but truthful, as back then, at la cote Basque and other Capote hangouts, I think it is called la cote basque 1975, isn't it..‚Äč?, and the rabbi who looked like Italian actor F Murray Abraham, said that starting now, then Christmas 1975, if I was up for it I d have to give it my all and would have a good chance to Harvard or Yale and the American dream that has always held for Jews and others in America stable boys at the king's ranch. I made it apparent that I was no Harvard queer, and my father agreed. Funny as I recall back then. It was the preppies schools that were where we all heard the queers were made at various levels of boyish demeanor, until aids hit, and the priests just had to be demeaned into perverts ,lest anyone think, like Rome, they didn't deserve it, like the Sabine girls.

He had no love of Harvard,my father, not like  as is shown in this turn of the century show, at late and until the number was too high for the married into the famialia gal who wrote it for the wb I think, and so, Yale came in and took a slightly smaller number to get all that pub, which, as I recall reading, the use of Rory as a Yalie Nancy drew feminine architect caused a 15 percent jump in applications to Yale, showing again, Veritas is what veritas does.


I recall in watching these rerun shows, thinking it amazing that like the brilliant Homicide, this show was given almost no Emmy Accilaides while on, and seeming to show what reviews and critics are worth, as Lauren in an ultimate dream girl to me, as well, slightly below Wendy Fiore, and for different reasons, as of course fairing the perfect girl who encases both sides of brunette loveliness, sexy and sophisticated, was an EC comic satire I did, called the first times a misogynistic, in the pages of which, where the brains of a Danielle Cosretto sort were applied sloppily and very chiller theater, in a body of a Fiore creating a Beatrice, as unseen here, which made me ask the woman who was so insulted, what part of EC comic book satire didn't you get. AH, BUT THIS BEING A WOMAN,OBVIOUSLY ALL OF IT. OUCH.Satire is always the first thing to go when the tsarists take over, they must be seen as noble and decent from Augie to Billie, and satire not only gives the game way, it make get under their skin. Plautus and Terrance were the first to go, burned by Augustus, which cued at later gotten rid of Ovid to say how could they compete with the Caesars, who were giving farce and pratfalls away for free.


AS I could have guessed this fag land is a mere empire of ninnies was it always gets to be, as Tacitus said, every empire ends up with far too few soldiers and far too many welfare queens than it needs. I love you coons thinking welfare queen was something invented or you, ah the Romans showed the way to decline and falls and corrupt plutocrats and evil vicious fish wives and brothers of a insipid attempt to take power when you niggers were still living in trees and loincloths, as despite any love of noble savages there is no tittle Jews and yentas want as much as say Senator.

There is something mean and measly loudmouthed shown in this dump since Lorelei and glammingly Hispanic thought by me as Goy godless Alexis Bledel, and Liza and Milo, the well read hoodlum, an olive skinned twist on things we'd not see again, as now I noted things have become meaner and more viscous than the bullshit of fakers and fained and faking politeness and forced goodness of who lovely the whites have become since the midnight riders have become. I heard a cretin on the radio, a national show now being heard on a Pittsburgh sports radio show on what used to be the B 94 channel, as the great local Cannon Brothers are unused for gumbas in mid flyover country from the dreaded Fan radio. And this creep, was doing his love of men who sweat, a froggy voiced ninny, a gumba Jewie twerp, a lover of men in space who with his boys, ahhhoyyy, IM A PIRATE!, OH NIGGERS PLEASE, THE DIMINUTION OF GAY MEN IS A Roman ATTRIBUTE GOING BACK TO COMMIDIES LONG GONE. AS I said once allictiting a like from Jon Stewart, or whoever had read it, I recall reading Coriolanus when it was still played for laughs, as in fact it was by Roman hating and suspicious Italians more bull than wolf. So, this creepy faggy weirdo, some one name creep, like Cher or such as that, was speaking to his 'boys', again they all sound the same, as all share a love of Tom Brady and Sodomy, to paraphrase Alvin Singer, as they discussed the ads that bothered them so, and I had to sit there a second, and didn't turn the dial, just knowing what this closeted everything was about to say, not sure why I knew but did, as between radio gay lovers quarrels about TV, and waited a beat or two just knowing how he'd hate. It was of course, cute non vulgar enough to make a good diversion, Lilly, bosomy Serbian sweetheart in blue jeans who sells the att broadband plans. I knew that had to come, as have seen closeted queers like he all my life, as who else but as he said, snarly sarcastic girl seen by accident between the cods of men in motion could not bother this creep more. ITS A SAD LAND NOW, WHAT WITH GAY MARRIAGE, LITERALLY FIRST DANCING ON THE GRAVES OF DEAD FAGS, AND TOM BRADY SELLING MIRACLE CREAMS, AND DRONES SENT OUT BY MEN WHO DARE SPEAK OF THEIR ANTI WAR DEBONAIRNESS, AND LESBIANS ON ICE, AND DEEPER CLOSETS THAN WE HAVE EVER EVER HAD. 

 

  1. My Roman love of blood sports and without the fandangos and protestations that must be made to  allow for niggeraliaa to continue unabated and yet always is blue penciled editing causes me to hate certain things being done and attempt's now as the boy in me, enthralled by the Jesuit love of Venus and Hercules and not necessarily in that order ,but close enough, caused me to wince at the venal soap operas that America had become.

Like how I fell badly as do most now, the football games this year as I suspected would take on a funeral games attribute,sad and dull , despondence and broken as each teams seems to lose a star each week, the play is the thing, as as Sallust said, or was it Senaca...?, anyway it wasn't Shakespeare, it never is, and so, ESPN queers and Jews and Negro bag boys do their best to rah rah and siss boom bah, but the flesh is weak, and somehow perpetrated in ways that make matheletes and people who would have liked to take a gun to school to blow out the brains of jocks feel ver kelmpt. Shady Brady has his house niggers on that station keeping their bag man acts, as they have been trained myths allowed, like me at Harvard, had I wanted it, to be boys in the band and acceptable floor washers at the Pretorium, which was never so apparent as when in twelve Horus after Barry the white dared say there would be no ground troops or 'boots' to be Cesarean about it, in Mesopotamia. Oh well, here came white owner and overseer Ashland CARTER TO SAY NOW HOOLLLLLLD IT DERE, AND EXPLAINED TO US ALL, IN TONES AND DULCET AND WHITEY MIDDLE MANAGEMENT, THAT WELL, GEE WHIZ, THE PRAETOR YOU SEE HE HAS NO IDEA WHAT HE MEANT HERE, AND IN FACT, WITH A BALD FACE, AND WITH OPENNESS OF CORRUPTION NOW NEEDED AS BARRY STRAFES TO PACK UP HIS OLD KIT BAG AND SMILE SMILE SMILE. That's a shame, when an American PRESIDENT IS SO USELESS AND WORTHLESS AND PART OF SOME CABAL, is so powerless that a minister of defense can come out and openly almost derisively and without fear of any Jovian thunderbolt, or yelling Augustus screaming about eagles dared,  say that the praetor doesn't live here anymore and again, we can find anyone to keep the Cheney imperium humming along. 

As the praetors they can always find some democrats who do not really believe this shit, but except, it seems no one with blood ties to the old coot who started all this, hoping to gain the presidency with all came gatecrashing down, when as his family is want to do, his triumphal parade turned into a funeral march, and a bloated pig named Clinton showed up, wanting to be president to double his chances of a date on Saturday night. When I saw a cabinet mister come out within hours and totally renounce and act as if all the praetor just said was seen as a mere misunderstanding, and or meaningless, as the bombs are dropping and as always we attack at dawn, I knew the Praetor exits stage right, as Coriolanus did, without the bells and winks, without the laughs, but a comedienne none the less. Ouch.


This football and policy morass, which I saw coming when you forgot to cut your hands and bleed as the Roman magic demands, again stolen for harry potter I noted, as it seems like Saw and zombie movies to play on a loop this arthritic treed Halloween season, was sadder than most.

It is not the Roman Circus I was weaned on, or adore, as women have come through the back door while the Aids victims where as in Manzoni carried out, all the hard cunts cloying and crying as they did at Rent and making sure that they got their corner offices, or at least as close as allowed, there is again something delineating and demeaned, rotten and rancid about this empire now, and there are nothing but finger waggers and blue noses , most queer, as this imperial party is no fun at all. But as I said before the Roman goddess, is out in the winds, no Yahweh she, Alpina, or Turan, someone with askance of bitchy humor is out there, perhaps she was the one, causing the patriots grips on balls to be less than before, I note even the depleted Cowboys kicking Brady ass, as funnily, sorry Jew boy Moonshiner and his bloated Negros, but this march to the sea is starting to look less like a Roman Spring than it is a Parauge winter, and balls once firmly in the snatches of patriots , again the Demolition of the femmy is a true Roman art, seem less sturdy than ever, slippy and folly, and a team that we were assured as going to go on Freemason march seems to be a replay of Germany after the fall, which befits their flag draped bunting fraudulence.

As lately the anti-Marciano ethic of picnicking one when one is down, [that was for JT FROM DEE HILL, SHO NUFF]  or spitting downwards seems an onliest national poem, one we sadly, Hoover said wistfully didn't have, as Vidal said too we are an empire adrift without a Virgil on board, and I have noted a true sameness of mean from the house coons and the Jew trash the fan boys and fan men, who have demeaned the Cowboys as last year was hard in them till the bad call. House niggers who speak if women getting cloaked getting what they'd deserve and mets fan gumba Jews on radio seem to be more hostile to the cowboys than ever, and again as Auger I warn thee all, that if you can hate a Cowboys team over Emmitt Smith and before that Landry and Staubach, well, niggers you betters start hating the patriots now, as the idea of a Trojan horse is again beneath a Roman contempt and see, cheating while other men bleed is juts going to make your fall hurt all the more. See, huns, beginners of Romanism and in law Jews, if Jerry Jones couldn't stop me from being a Cowboy fan, what fucking chance do you have...?

Is it too Roman to hope for a knee blown out or a neck broken by Hardy or Benji or Brady, as she assures us she will play another ten years, sussing mother flecthers handy dandy chef of the future kitchen fatasmatta cheese whiz, or is it vatmeatvegimin, and its tasty too, again laying it on thick,as from the view of the artiness all you have left are the house cowherds of ESPN, and again, as Kieth shows us , he is never the last at anything, it appears the mouse factory is cutting jobs there too, as star wars cost as shit ton to buy, and so, how many bag men do you need, a question that pollacks and coonies never know is about to be asked. Eking out victories, by bumbling before Halloween isn't what the patrons thought they were buying, old men, and so, you'd better learn that eventually it doesnt matter who is playacting, as Nero said, as once again the very term Turk, as the hatchet man,  is a Roman affectation no white woman can lecture us out of, as pink slips are close to confetti, but they fail with a thud.

 

  1. In the middle of much work and computer problems, and wondering why ninnies think all is their business, I received an email from of all places, Amazon. I hadn't even gone back to the page for Ancient Romance, to keep it as a favorite on this old machine, as am thinking of pricing a new one, or at least buying a less used one. I was sent a email telling me of some sort of revelation my site, and did I want to avail myself of some new biorhythms or algorithms that all sounded too money ball analytic to me, which I again a lover of Roman blood sport see as far too thinking and far to conniving to work, or be anything buts mere balderdash.
These new accompaniments could allow me to make sure that the deceit and the emanates of our age wasn't in some way of my selling my books, a disease you all have when hurling crap at the igneous bloated Irish sour mash leprous O'Reilly and his amazingly unresearched seasonal gift books of death and murder, stories that men like Caro spend years to hone, that he gets out before the Xmas rush. Did I care or want to somehow get into the bullshit that is that site, as anything after that bleeding cool shit is thrown away by me, as have known of the forty dollar a post con job since let too close to the by now eternal Hillary campaign over a cartoon had enough anti Obama ism to it before as usual, he would become a godling and now, a merest shadow, as white men can jump over him and anything he says as the point of Sparta as Livy said, was of war and nothing else. Did I want to go and do some kind of reiteration of something , blah blah, that I could now delete reviews, defamed at appellation to Amazon as getting even it seems is the best revenge for people you'd never heard of, who you, in the land of the free and the home of the brave made feel bad about daring not to agree wholeheartedness with the bullshit they pretend to believe in, or something along these liens, ans as Amazon becomes a later book shoppe to go under it seems, this is a needed weapon in the war of bullshiyt out there, where the bullies have gone lest they scrape their knuckles on the walls. Now, I was altered I could deflate or hide reviews I felt deleterious to me, now if I felt, something something, who cares, I wasn't even going to bother to read the reviews, I never almost a trick I learned at zeotreope, a Danetan passing by, that always hits them in the mush, worse than any joke ever did.

Did I care that some found it important to as they always do, play at being Edmund Wilson or worse yet John Simon with me...? Hardly. Especially cavalierly after utilization of these analysis to find out not one copy of this book was sold through Amazon , never the point, anyway, as it was to make sure that , recalling those priests who admired me back when, that I will and would and did make it to Rome as a booklet long before Cupola or Sorseaey would ever be allowed, as I know now as I thought when they were busily making gumba stories as dago joke books therefore careers lasted better and longer than they did when even hinting of the crimes of Jews and bankers. Knowing this was more of the shit that you do, and I didn't even make any money here, knew what bullshit this was, my Mediterranean interests went else where as had things to do and get done.

I did notice it did get one star, in the crappy snide way that of the temple of Bozo, --you're hung up on a clown from the fifties mahhn--, which I found a kind of a bridgeable thing, that I must have pissed off somebody the usual Greek and I mean Greek chorus who cant just leave me be, as they after as they have seen before thinking I am on to them, or at that I even care. As I found this a point of honor, as share with this one star review from the middle brow circus, a response given to The lives of the aritsts, The Inferno, Chimes at Midnight, Citizen Kane and Promythia showing that the goons of essays are always on the outlook as Plautus warned for and by anyone not willing to agree with them about anything, but smilingly at least politically, say nothing when their beloved Praetor has just been so affectingly and ostentatiously slapped down as if an interregnum, as CNN dog women try departmentally to save the heavy weight title bout of Bush V Clinton of which the filthy people, as they alas do in new Sicily, have grown weary of waiting to see.

I sent this book to fulfill out my own ennui of last autumns a few years ago, to show that I wasn't about to be censored by low level hoods like Cupola, it means cage, it always did, and Scoreasy, whose nickel plating artist hood was returned to the wal mart or the bodega tow which it had come. This book was cut to ribbons just to get published and not by some who published works worse than anything I ever done, something I've noted I dared to compare the Romans to you, and not in any good or way the Jews are allowed, and the TUSCAN EMPIRE, ONCE ALL THE WAY TO THE RHONE, AS THE ITALIANS WERE GREAT FIGHTERS ONCE, BEFORE CHRIST AND PAUL MADE THEM ALL AFFABLE FUCK UPS, AN EMPIRE WAS SHOWN AS FALLING UNDER THE WEIGHT OF MEN LIKE DECITEFUL LOVABLE ELF HATING ROUGE BILL, WHO'D BE IN THE Tony VERSE MORE WILLING TO PLACE THEIR WIVES IN MANCIOMINUMS, the Romans invented the gulag and the mad house as the answer to all political questions. And I dint care what any one in the temple of middlebrow had so say, capitally at dump where, dear Melissa Harris Perry cover girl delightful, who I saw make the same argument I did against wurking man bullshit, but for different reasons. None at GE theater or wayward priest Irishmen from holy cross told us that man of the people and scion of the wurking man Ohio cretin Kasick was in fact, a man in the tower at Leeman Brothers, as that again that came from delightful bag man less Trumpie. Perhaps my only friend of the ivory towers is Melissa left, believer of the cause, see, on that site there are white snoops who think the Italians are mistaken by making Dante their national poet, the Caucasus wives, this church of egg and ham eaters thinks it be better as Petrarch and blond Laura, a beard for to English teachers. Its amusing how they think like their crap in Shakespeare and Twain that all sold be silenced as white women say, which tells you what you are dealing with.

Now, after all this time, some hack has something SAID NOW, THIS LATE AND THIS FAR REMOVED , WHO CARES NOW,AS THAT BOOK AND ITS APOLLONIAN OF VEII, [ the picture of the almost Jesus like God who got me a lot of note,] was a petulant almost personnel reply to the sissys and the gumabs and the white chicks and the earshot weirdos, as It as meant as a recompense to all those hacks I never told off before.

That image of Apollo on that site at all was done by me not to sell anything, as I told the affable man at comics reporter I ain't selling anything, as a good Roman were I, I wouldn't be this honest, as it as a image again stall as was placed there on that wall of Bozos midden-brow temples. That gaggle of white girls and their vampire books, their Catholic demeaning womanish books, as again I was the one praised by both a gay and catholic editor for remembering the Jesuits and nuns as human beings and lovers of Ovid and not as merely orsulophnates or perverts. I palmed that picture up like Harry Lime, and posted that picture on Amazon as too sued a page offered to me, aha, you should have googled me, ouch, before attempting your womanish jibes, see, I won the top 250 spot in a contest, tres Ariosto, with parts of this self same book two years before, and got three stars out of four on no less a site than Zoetrope and you middle brows are staidness to hate everything that doesn't curtsy to you to begin with, whereas again I have never, never ever cared enough to actually do anything close to the angers and the needs for stash you have.

If I had wanted to jut sell this book, amusingly I would have as was told to, lighten up on the Romans as the enemies here,as was told, my brother informed me recalling this aside when was told they'd publish my book under their auspices for 99 bucks, by Penguin. I was told that there is a good healthy business and selling books of Romans epics with a good forward sneering at them from shoreline of barbarism all along, and even a testy pub house who makes books about ancient aliens as seen in George Noory refused the book asking me to tone it done, so again, as usual, I know from what monsters you have been hatched. Again if anything it as the cumbersomeness of it that irked me, as if I CARED OR KEPT GOING THERE OR WANTED TO KNOW WHAT ANYONE THINKS OF ANYTHING, AS AGAIN, IN THAT ONE STAR THOUGHT OF THE ONE STARS NOVENE OUT OF NIMRODS THERE, STREWN IN MIDDLEBROW KINGDOM, TO CHIMES AND MIDNIGHT, AND RAISING KANE AS A SPIRIT GUIDE, AND THE SNEERING HATRED OF ALL THINGS Roman AND ITALIAN THERE, BY FAT GIRLS who cause  a recall of Julian, and fat women reading Homer, how prefect, as I recall father Gore and his mention of talking women who read too much homer. Homer that's the poet who I think of whens seeing Barry being emasculated, to use your beloved white girls power words, action verbs and mean girls points of navigation, as before Bionic Barry, the last time I saw this many Aryans spill out of a horses ass was in fact the shitty Ulysses. As I have said before a Trojan horse is alas beneath a Roman comportment a scene in Virgil even geeky Macribious had to admire.

As the word mansplaining was used against me somewhere on a alert, I hope it wasn't Kartina Richardson or Cyn Dulay or Bitchy black sweatred nailed and pedicured goth gal Jennifer De Gooseman, or some other dragoon lady I've come to like, as it was a small box in this update showing a Eurasian face attached. I had to ask, this mansplaning thing, does that mean I am unallwoed an opinion on things unless like Jewry Jonny I pretend to keep my distaste to a six week intervals and promise that I didn't meaaaan it...? What does that mean exactly, I wonder, as what is the scantness of this as a put down, that I understand something you don't, after years and years of reading Aquinas and Machiavelli in a land where all you ever ever read is Puzo if that...? Was it mansplaianing when the good lesbos and the good blond witches of suburbia at the national organization toll booth of women and the good unmarried lesbo cows and vicious cunts, was it mansplained to you when you were told at dreadful horrid covens, the planned parenthood which predated Adolph's cunt tearing out by years, what was it when someone at the central office made you acquiesce, a great word, that you wouldn't be selling baby gizzards anymore and no longer would you sell human goop, and the sweetbreads of fetii would no longer be sold out of your trunks like Bill Clinton sells his pardons. Was that mansplained to you that it was a tad too Grimm's for the good folks at CNN. And CBS, ah the shame of harvest, was it uncomplaining, are were you practical magic witches suddenly Donna Reed like in your Westinghouse dream homes, googie architecture world of tomorrows ovens and frying pans whirring away like good women, when the good white wicka queens and fat ugly woman were told to knock it off, or else, capishe...See cause I could have, as said, got Ancient Romance published honesty and the way that woman liked, if I just took out a passage, and its all based on truth as it all has to be, what with me as a Machiavellian, as wrote of how Greek woman sued abortion as way to make sure they were somehow always free of their husbands surprising maters with local Italian girls found with big tits as brood mares, the secret lives of the imperialists as its always been. Was it mansplained to you, or did an explanation ever forth-come, do they just say heeeeel, as is said by tent revivalists and dog whisperers too, for the same effects, that baby's first evisceration, to sue a favored word, like Don Martin the elites just love action words, was too much for the Jews in laws to bear and so the word went forth this close to a perpetual Columbus day, when the house everyone's and white women Democrats all love cops and guns and such. Oh look, Bra's getting the scent in the wind, and has blamed CNN and the dying faireiis at GE theater for cops being killed, when means he has to blame someone, and you nigger lives matter queers go watch who gets to be Ohio states QB like good Subway Alum, that you all are. Imperially I hope the Mets fuck this all up, as there is no crying in imperialism, unless one recalls Masada correctly, and don't ever do that. So, the woman are told by consultants, about coma like harvesters, that is much too close to the vampires that Jew were in the middle ages, and its not a Boccaccio world anymore, but you Jews made your bed, KABOOOOOM! SO, knock it off as quietly as you must, but that witch trial finally is something Americans doenst want to see and cleanness is close to goddessnesss, or something, so wash those floors Rachel, get out that mop as it all makes mother Gertrude Hillary look bad, but then no one told her to make gold star and purple heart soldiers being let die to make everything as she must make everything a referendum on her, and she can sense all those eyes this paranoid hag whore cunt sees there in the dark, where there is probably nothing but two over Roman propane blue eyes between cumming and goings anyway. And so good night unto you all, save your stars and reveres for movies about eating shit, you know Tarantino, and leave me alone, as the dynastic yentas find trouble in river city, as are all tsksin and winger wagging in our faces. Was that mansplained enough to you, dears. See again, I don't bleed cool. Instead, I am artlessly hip.











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