nation...where only the strongest of us will apparently be aloud to survive amongst the happy lil trees...i implore you PUHLEEZ...
can someone text CHER...
call RUTH BADER GINSBURG...
and make a house call from an acceptable social distance of course...with BETTY WHITE...on the hour...every hour...to make sure they're still with us...keep in mind though...they eventually will most likely hire some hot hitman to cap yer ass fer the mere incessant annoyance of it all...
BUTT...just so you know...it'll come from a place i love
that i can't handle the way i've been treat'n myself lately...all that dirty back talk and beat'n myself off like a prisoner in solitary confinement...then when i decided to call the suicide hotline just to spice it up a bit...(fer role play'n purposes only of course) plead'n with them that i no longer can handle bein' locked inside of my 2 room shit box...stuff'n every one of my starve'n orifices with endless pans of tuna casseroles smothered in weight gain powder until i look as bloated as a fuck'n Macy's day parade balloon...
well...cuz i wanna be a contestant on a season of MY 600 POUND LIFE fer no other reason than to make my E true hollyweird story seem plausible...unfortunately i would always end up bein' put on hold fer some reason
so i decided to give up that fantasy...fer now...and swap out my last 4
boxes of magically delicious samoas...fer some black market Rice-O-Roni from this random guy i met in the park the other day...who told me to meet him up in some back alley downtown fer the hand off since it's no longer on any shelf in the tri-state area...the code word would be "CHEDDAR" he exclaimed just so he would know it was me...so i apologize in advance...but i simply won't have any time to tell ya any sorta sordid twisted words of wisdom this week kittens
instead...i stumbled across THEE best bitch slap served by everyone's
fav-o-rit bad boy from the CRUE on a hot FUCK U platter by the one and only TOMMY FUCK ME LEE (well...as long as he bathes and has his rabbi shots...i still remember all those unfortunate Pamela Anderson incidents and those red door clinic visits) so i decided to take the week off...since no one else is work'n (plus...i ain't gett'n paid shit to be yer personal psychologist) so enjoy!
Dear Fucking Lunatic,
At your recent press conference - more a word salad that had a stroke and fell down stairs, you were CLEARLY so out of your depth you needed scuba gear. Within minutes of going off air your minions were backpedaling faster than Cirque De Soliel acrobats...In India a week ago, i couldn’t get past the bit about your being the most popular visitor in the history of fucking india — a country of a BILLION human souls that’s only 3000 years old, give or take.!!! Trust me - Gandhi pulled CROWDS.. You pulled a cricket stadium and half WALKED out...
Do you know how fucking insane you sound, you off-brand butt plug? That's like the geopolitical equivalent of “that stripper really likes me” — only 10,000 times crazier and less self aware. You are fucking exhausting. Every day is a natural experiment in determining how long 300 million people can resist coring out their own assholes with an ice auger. Every time I hear a snippet of your Queens-tinged banshee larynx farts, I want to scream!
We are fucking tired. As bad as we all thought your presidency would be when Putin got you elected, it’s been inestimably worse.
You called a hostile, nuclear-armed head of state “short and fat.” How the fuck does that help?
You accused a woman — a former friend, no less — of showing up at your resort bleeding from the face and begging to get in. You, you, YOU — the guy who looks like a Christmas haggis inexplicably brought to life by Frosty’s magic hat — yes, you of all people said that.
You attempted — with evident fucking glee — to get 24 million people thrown off their health insurance.
You gave billions away to corporations and the already wealthy while simultaneously telling struggling poor people that you were doing exactly the opposite.
You endorsed a pedophile, praised brutal dictators, and defended LITERAL FUCKING NAZIS!
Ninety-nine percent of everything you say is either false, crazy, incoherent, just plain cruel, or a rancid paella of all four.
Oh, by the way, Puerto Rico is still FUBAR. You got yourself and your family billions in tax breaks for Christmas. What do they get? More paper towels?
Enough, enough, enough, enough! For the love of God and all that is holy, good, and pure, would you please, finally and forever, shut your feculent KFC-hole until you have something valuable — or even marginally civil — to say?
You are a fried dick sandwich with a side of schlongs. If chlamydia and gonorrhea had a son, you’d appoint him HHS secretary. You are a disgraceful, pustulant hot stew full of casuistry, godawful ideas, unintelligible non sequiturs, and malignant rage.
You are the perfect circus orangutan diaper from Plato’s World of Forms.
So fuck you Mr. President. And fuck you forever.
Oh, and Pence, you oleaginous house ferret. Fuck you, too. You'll be as useful as a chocolate teapot against a medical crisis you Bible thumping cock socket."
and there ya have it kittens...so until next time on GET OFF MY DRESS
GET OFF MY DRESS!
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