I REMEMBER MARIO.
Amazing to the buffoons and bag men of power Trumps lead seems to be growing, and in fact, is pulling ahead of Kaiscehech, our sweaty cup holder, should he lose in Ohio, hell get it fo sho, as is already in the rears to Goldman Sacks for thirteen million dollars, as is Ted Baxter to fiance their insurgent campaigns. Yes our Polish Icarus on wax wings tried to fly to close to the sun, but unforgettably was clever enough to go at night. Ah this little DC MARVEL cross over you have with Fox and CNN is coming asunder. as I would have guessed, despite traitor translators like Costa, company wop, up everywhere with breathless bulletins between pot pies. The mistake was getting the spics and fags involved, unnoticed of how Hillary unlike her husband cant keep the trash all together and in line like her Husband did, but then she never read Petronius, and all her unromantic campaign events have the feel of a sobriety checkpoint as she recites the alphabet backwards everywhere she is. So, you know Bill wouldn't like not let her stumble into a majority that he never connived to.
OH BUT NEXT TIME you send out Barry and his vanquished Mormon out when the days should be filled with Hillary painkilling and explaining why her button-man just want Joe Valachi, since Puzo is the only Italian genius you recite here in Gumba land, remember Barry and Bob Hopeless couldn't get traction as Cicero, see because unlike Trump, they actually made a point of castigating the dirty filthy plebs, never smart, as Goldman will find out now, as they spoke of god and guns and democratic states and that half the country was porch monkeys and welfare queens as they chased their tarp checks. Nest time you send out 'radicals' Fox news, don't send out niggers who all look like they could have shows on cnbc, and remember whoever is next president, if not Trumpie, well, none of you house everything’s is good enough to even pretend that you aren't as big a puppet as he is. And in your bats nest of Rovers, try to find someone, in your cacophony of white boys who seems to have missed a meal as say the plebes have over and over never invited to Nero’s Pig Luaus, never there close enough to hear how the alma maters from Holy Cross, is it still maters, since you know the Jesuits were hateful of woman as all get out, the plebs never hear in what contempt they re held and how this is shared pillow talk between jewie husbands and frigid blond wives, pillow talk being a throw away term as both genetically despise sex. Sex since Augustus was the first grand priest, is always something done by the trash and the filth, the elites loving abortion as much as hateful dykes. Some sort of Cide is always an imperial game, like the roles Sicilians play in everything from the Rope to Serpico, ad hoc abide by me that once said, got all the white girls and their Sicilian bag boys offen my back for good. Anyway find someone who doesn’t have to burp on the screen. Yes I saw that magical moment , a kind that cause magey glossed Megyn, the Shining Kelly to wetly look at her understudy made good calculating wings watching eyes. All the world is but a stage. Thank God, like the King James bible Willie never had to pay royalties.
This little dc marvel crossover that has Rachel and Pig man Rove on the same side is far to boring for Roman me, as again you have misjudged the term circus and all that is inherent in that disused Roman term. The people seem to be catching on, no one is as stupid as they preen as Mac The Knife say, and so, the neural angels all bereaving at the same time sound like a pig pen if not a goat pen and thus tragedy ensues. I will be catching better call Saul, as it fits my Jesuit inclination or lean and this political no not circus what could we call it, yes Palisade, a gallows with Clinton as mc, like Cutco standing there gleefully as hundred sentries were crucified like later Christ, who I think god what he deserved for saying render unto a man they keep trying to say was Augustus when in fact it was a vulgar Tyberius raping and really eviscerating ten year old Roman girls, but like now, shit niggers someone ahs to kill Arabs, and it isn’t them. What even our lackluster four Z soldier Mac Kane can in mid graceless rant and stammering can lecture us about what we say about Arabs as he dutifully and liteeally sings for gis General Dynamics supper by Barbarinioning about bombing the helpless civilians of Persepolis’s and Susa, like Alexander, shall be his! Acccch, sheesh, its all too amateur night hour for me. House coons on fox doding jiggy eye rolls and tap dancing as the well meaning bushiness blond wop looks on unwilling to say anything her bosses might disdain, w ell, this is why MSNBC went off the air, or whatever state it is in now. Is Keith on…?, wed be the better for it. I have read the roman sonnets. I have heard the chimes at midnight. Elites are an anathema to a republic, as to the plebeian ear, the laughter, ridicule and sneering of elitist sounds the way Vomit smells. Cicero said that.
Hillary made a point that she wanted to know where Boiney did you cut the toikey was at when she was in a previous life and a previous face doing some bullshit of hers, ah but that as so many Ovid-an nightmares ago, she didn't know they would find him standing behind her, praised for his devoted woik, standing behind her as Bernie, Roman gods bless him is almost like Trump at a deficit in dealing with the Bush babies and the Clintonists as he is as Tacitus said, is a decent man and this crippled in their race towards Dis. But Bill wouldn't hold her incompetence against her would he, as he , though a Ozarks Machiavelli and a Roman barefoot Marius in the weeds and the hot springs, he would allow her to gain a majority, no no Euclidean math about pluralities from Larry the magnificent when Harry Lime was in the sewers, A MAJORITY he never got. Even though in comparison to him the YWCA of her campaign rallies has the Romance and the timing and the grace of a sobriety checkpoint. Ah but dears, your marvel dc crossover Amalgam comics inst going to work, tha bag is broke, that con is up, nay more, as I am a Republican as I said, a Roman republican and wish to see turtle McConnell and his g- fivers and billionaires be sunk. But I picked up something, the bag man like Bill Ares who has more to say about Trump than he did nine eight years of Wars and drones, and move on .com, no wait its an Org, as its a scheme, they now have house coons on fox between eye-rolls and Stepin Fichet takes barely saying that somehow they weren't taking credit for this on Friday night as again, you've been had and didn't think it trough, and you made the ultimate mistake Rodger, you allowed the alley cats like Bill Ares into the yard. Never take the side of your nemesis argument, I read Napoleon as a boy, and so now, a certain Imperial deceit, thus sadness shows as Bush baby thinks and schemes hell get in on Rachel's back, Good luck on that one, baby Huey.
And now they hope to stay there no matter who gets the tin crown , as believe me, if Ted wins in, as Rachel deserves, you ll find out everyone will think Trump wasn't so bad. What booted yours station so much, the anti war, the committing to not cutting entitlements, a vow by the by that Hilly wont take, as there seems to be a floor to her lies as never with Roman Bill, showing why he was better at this and she is perpetually reading the aligned backwaters to us on one leg. Still I havent seen anything this fraudulent in politicos where the con of the res publican of Augustus must be a given lest one lose his head, since 1992 when also as openly and brazenly over fed white men and their imperial hag wives and lesbians and their owned coons were trying to derail Clinton and, thus, openly again, they walked about with buttons recanting the intitled credo of ABC. No not the third rail of bad television, not where Ann and Donald flit about the magic cesarean city of new Amsterdam, no it meant, dryly, meanly coldly and calculating, ANYBODY BUT CLINTON. And the hacks and pimps of empire were right, he couldn’t get a majority, although was smart enough to know that recruited Ross Perot as a third man, though again, he plays Harry lime, whether you like it or not. This story is open and out there reacted to in usual affable stunned and gaping mouth of the plebe in the seats as there was no fourth wall to the Roman theater something again we must give credit to Shamspaerere for you know in the stenographers heart had arts, by grand old dunkey Irish perpetually shocked aging political operative Mark Shields, a recollection in me of all the Irish priests I had, seen by me with a smirk and a love of grain alcohol and the boys, as opposed to the Italian priests who all had a thing for Juliette and Sophia when she appeared in the million dollar movie. This story as also recounted by hag named Maureen Dowd who sued it to show that Mario Cuomo would be forever called Hamlet, for not showing the patrician and louvered needs of power that has turned somehow the slog between Princeling Bush and Mother Gertrude Hillary into a full out and a conjoining federal investigation causing hilly’s eyes to be soaked in Mescaline more each day.
The men of the back room, these holy papists some smoking two dollar cigars, came together in the back room of political hacks, that Fox and they shall pay for it, have made into when crucifying goes bad, as like the Simpsons never going away, Fox is never good at knowing when to fold em, as the chicken man woefully say. Hard sale is our Jewish creed and you’d think that by now they’d know the more thick they ley it on, the more Trumpy rises as the trash remember them…?, the people have bemoaned tired of your rot. The hacks and thugs and pimps of power came to Mario, sure that Bill Clinton was more Roman circus than he was Jewish high holy days, remember they were quite sanctimonious in to the face of ignominy this country was before, you know, all the houses in Detroit could be bought for 1000 a pace and the ruins were made as usually as in Cuba for the derailed darkers to dance in, perhaps maybe a vulgar , too white woman volutes amason in one of the Roman ruins in the unleaded waters there, could voluptuously dance suggestively in the green marble waters or the eqivilant of Michigan Sonoco station run off, but then I saw a review by some Jewish film hack who seemingly hated Frederico and De Sica, and can you imagine, maybe Freddy bit not De sica, as the Jewish slob was bothered by the famous scene of to him chubby Anita in the Grove of bricks waters, as one could hear this Jews secretly steaming about the various black men with fat blonds he was seeing then even in the great eternal and emerald city he thought a perfect safe haven away from the goys and the shit. It was stuff like that that erned me both censure and yet admiration from Empire and other Film magazines, as Ma says to me when still boyishly mischievous and to hid something, I went there and am already back. Turns out I was told too , being far aways with my distaste for Rosencrantz and the arsoner of Kane, perilous Pauline, was shared at least in the silences and away from the parties of power and placement. The point of these essay. Everything dirty and good happens in the dark and too, porno, like the mass, is berthed in too much false light.
The era then was the same in that the sort of sanctimonious shit they like to slather themselves in while thieving, and so, they asked Mario, seen by all as above board and poetic, all but David Brinkley somehow, who had gone too eagerly from wry anti- Cronkite to dying lizard. And with a G5 on the tarmac, the showy men came to Mario, still new York Gouvner, incubator of Roosevelt’s. They asked him to take the nomination, by acclimation after a play at republic that even a girl, Laura, a perfect name, Ingram, knows would be death to the party, and thus put Hillary right on, ah, a sleazy plan, but I don’t trust Hillary to do anything by rote, no lesbian can. If you think Hillary s a reliable plan B, well then you hadnt like me been schooled in the viscidities of women equally those who ape and preen they are men, by Jesuits, as I was. Good luck with that, as our withcipeoo flies on a broom across the moon, sure this time she will pat Bugs Back. And Mario differed, a decent man amid the pimps. He couldn’t be, this ex Pittsburgh Pirate, like Castro, he couldn’t take a nomination, as an first Italian American presidential candidate, one of the scents of ethics you passed over quickly once finding a half breed in the Chaney family to make Black Narcissuss, ah but eh drowned in the folds of indigo assuredness. Oh look he wants to put a white man on the bench as his lasting creed. Go home, Benedict, believe me no ill will, just go home, go Cincinnatus once, cause if Ted or Hillary are in theirs as Cavuto’s masters plans don’t blow up in their face again, get out of town, as there can only be one prima Donna per company, and with Ted or Hillary as the chosen one, and with the good housekeeping seal of approval on their chests like wally’s masterwork, superduperman, believe me, you wont want any part of it. Mario deferred forever as said, getting the term Hamlet stuck to him, as now Maureen who always takes the aside of whoever is closing, an oldest truck, now activates Hillary for her Lupine devotion to hanging from that leach. Mario didn’t allow them, good Jesuit student he was as was I and Bill and Newt and Gore and Orson and all, he knew the republic meant something, of course it doesn’t to Boiney, although not to be a bitch, but why are her transactions as a speech maker as a private citizen on the table, but her possible felonies as a gummit official are not, why is one too low a blow and the other a campaign theme… why would what she did as a private citizen by somehow be castigated for and yet possible crimes an the fact she readied over the death of Seals somehow not, ….Ah Verb your enthusiasm a joke I used six years before Loran caught up. And back then in our perpetual now, and he, Mario, the last Lombardi before we were all Globists telling people on cable television that Bellcheat was brilliant even if it means a scathing veiwership, couldn’t take that seat thinking of all the Sacco and Vanzetti’s once heroes to old fags who taugt me the Roman rites well, and Turnues who came before , and he didn’t. When Bill Clinton was given the opportunity to name a supreme court justice, however, recalling this, he offered it to Mario, who declined again, showing perhaps the ends and means of powre arenet all they are cracked up to be, and sometimes it isn’t a bad idea to just go back to the farm. Like after Scalia died I saw people seemingly actually saddened for the giant who was Mario, now recapped again as if by Vogue, with sweaty and yet robtic spcis who are openly eulogized about how much better they were than the people, again you assholes of empire don’t get it, as only Baglala had the decency to say he was the republicans John Edwards, a man too slick and sleazy even for politics, which is saying something, to which as a feared moment of unvarnished truth ant ethical to the white girls and their boring porno, neither love nor sex, fifty shades of blah, the yentas snarled and sighed, although when one thinks about it, he was the one who started going after the size of his enemies penis, which is amusing how boring and yet vulgar, the acceptable hacks of fox news can actually be.
I had a better time as long as Jon Stewart had his face on my Google page, as it went a long way to tamp down the hypocrites, as now again have fraud people calling my super heroines mysogist, you know, not blond, which makes me ask, what do these hacks and no bodies think they are going to get...? Like with Alan Moore, I was getting likes from Berne, beerrrrnoe, Boiney you sonabitch!, before most of you pay for players preened to march for him. I DID a lot of work this winter and went no where, including a few EC like horror comics, with my witch Lucy, that I cameoed in others work to their delight, Turan and Opps a tarot card of Tuscan goddess, a pin up postcard, the kind men like, the enraged laurelled centurion poster for propaganda, whose Machiavellian italic credo was lost on some hack who called it fascist or something, oh go bomb a hospital, and sent somehow else, and a comic with a Van Gogh background will again send somewhere else. I did get four lines on the resume, including a movie clip , but did about eight things and have yet to hear from anyone on six things, which frankly Ill take a womanish bullshit and misaligned labels of you good white trash, rather than just sit there and be un able to send a comic somewhere else.
The great Wendy Fiore, it seems has suspended her modeling career a sad note to make. I always found her a lovely sprite from the forrest of the Claudine forks in the road, both wops as ugly women something nowhere to our dying republic than not, but alas the Jews have need new niggers since they were allowed in as priories of the technocolor bath as it were. As Wendy always struck me as a voluptuous vocation Roman goddess, a truest punctura, the heart of the matter, amid the hags in over frosted hair. I don’t even have another Brunetta to compare her to, perhaps Max Black, if that, but not really, as in my esteem that she had a blond quality to her, not much seen in a land of cahiers in the Jennifers anymore, and thus acceptable to the closeted everythings. Wendy seemed a brunette variation of Kim Novak, coyly pretty and equally in the awful word of various Prada wearing demons hags, Ethic, catholic dream girl per excellence. So the ninnies in the spurned porno sites, the ones heeded only to find by me the latest her, all others even likable Jewish Daphne and big momma blond Kayla, all others seemed redundant, meaningless, unexceptional, useless as a half naked , she wryly knowing that was both burdensome to some and yet, all the more beguiling. Here was this woman creature born on a dolphin the Etruscan variation to the Greek dirty joke of a clameshell, never as Tacitus said is the faggy parts ever far from their most screed texts, why they are unreadable after all. Here was this woman with the cleaves of goddesses, where one handed typist weirdo sad sissy and closet everything and questioners and ninnies got what they wanted as they seemed to hector this girl as they did not do to two hundred pound fatties who eat crullers during cunnilingus, showing the American Circus at its unromantic and yet Fellini best. Do praise your faggot arts, as the priests always adored my voluptuous heroines as the Jews of marvel said my vundergirls all looked colored. Revel in your trimophi, the sissies, faggots, closeted terse, ninnies who hectored the girl unseemly and who said nothing to the whales of a pin up girl as they sipped and spewed their cum like a toxic run off, I am nothing of not Romantic, they got their wish as Wendy has seemingly backed away as your ilk, as had been doing to pretty girls I noticed since a boy in a high school, where wops unlike me showed their interest as football rapists, an undercurrent to your new found love of poor football players that no one seems to recall anymore.
I hope Wendy gets ahead, the fact shed want to bother the calculating fags of these websites, as I do see her as a brunette variation of chubby and zaftig and voluptuous and sixties and golden aged Antia Ekberg, as she would look good In the fountain of a million notte trevi made for Lorenzo, maybe better in Tony Bordains wretched industrial porn of Detroit, that show more touching than food porn and CNN ought, as like the awful and heinous Fellini, always playing good wop, no one now would think of putting her there. She was made to be a dame painted as dangerous and alluring on a signet paperback of a hard boiled detective, which in our land of queer wives, and left over hard and brittle queer wedding cake, more Mrs Haversham than the Mama of the Gallery, smoldering she is, such was her always best feature and the flaw in all of her arguments.