Tuesday, September 27, 2005
The one in DEMtucky.
ir George Turner found himself awash in a flood of long-stagnant spillage, a toxic cesspool of sodden detritus reeking with the overwhelming stench of rawest sewage highly contaminated by e-idiotarili and sundry other bacteria, viruses, and parasites, atop which floated the sickly film created by some enormous moonbatroleum leakage which cast a fearfully solid sheen over the whole scene, stressing its utter devastation. Yet he waded through it all until he reached higher, safer ground. But not before he plucked bar after bar of pure 24-fisKarat gold
from off the shelves of the many propitiously unguarded LLL-Marts there.
Well done, Sir George. Most inspiring. A masterpiece in the art of fisking which belongs in the Louvre (where the dhimmizens of *@#$%!* France *@#$%!* might see it too).
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