Keep it clean - If the Left didn't have profanity to convey their emotion, how could they get their point across? With reasoned debate? C'mon, now!
1 comment:
Anonymous
said...
The knavish liars who continue (with notable lack of result) to accuse the left of deliberately sabotaging the war effort are shameful synthetic sheaths used to contain semen and impede the spread of disease. Their self-serving male bovine fecal matter only establishes the declamatory depths to which the worst of the right will sink, to avoid acknowledging their own catastrophic litany of failure. In trying to wield their faux-patriotism as a cudgel, these openings at the lower end of the alimentary canal are a discredit to the country they purport to support. Apparently they would prefer to continue their diligent and enthusiastic oral service upon the organ George W. Bush uses for urinary excretion, than do the right thing for the troops. For this, they can kneel down and bestow a token of affection upon my unclothed gluteus maximus in Macy's window. Or, failing that, they are once again invited to (literally or rhetorically) contort their anatomy in such a manner that they can achieve the full act of carnal congress without another person present.
1 comment:
The knavish liars who continue (with notable lack of result) to accuse the left of deliberately sabotaging the war effort are shameful synthetic sheaths used to contain semen and impede the spread of disease. Their self-serving male bovine fecal matter only establishes the declamatory depths to which the worst of the right will sink, to avoid acknowledging their own catastrophic litany of failure. In trying to wield their faux-patriotism as a cudgel, these openings at the lower end of the alimentary canal are a discredit to the country they purport to support. Apparently they would prefer to continue their diligent and enthusiastic oral service upon the organ George W. Bush uses for urinary excretion, than do the right thing for the troops. For this, they can kneel down and bestow a token of affection upon my unclothed gluteus maximus in Macy's window. Or, failing that, they are once again invited to (literally or rhetorically) contort their anatomy in such a manner that they can achieve the full act of carnal congress without another person present.
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