Call me Avis. My father did, or nearly did. He called me Akis.
What the fuck is wrong with the people on this planet? I have a list of NOMF™ forces capturing the number two leader of this or that imaginary enemy of freedomocracy going back to when Bill Clinton was still the president getting hum jobs in the Oral Office.
The first paragraph of this post is an obvious reference for readers with even 1/3 of their literate brains still functioning, not that people with fully functional brains are deserving of my love or compassion.
I continue to work on bringing on the bomb because that's who I am and was born to do. You don't matter. You have no energy. You struggle to achieve manageable mediocrity for reasons I can only smile about and fart.
Breathe deeply. God does. And He smiles.
I called this administration the Obamination before his haughty hightone ass was even sworn in. Teabaggers? Who needs teabaggers to drive this doomed ship down when we have all these fucking wishy washy liberal pricks?
Whuffo I gots to support your dumbfuck arrogant haughty black heinie, Biraq? Whuffo? Fuck you, asshole. Moderation only makes sense when someone has defined the extremes. All of you fuckers are scum suckers. None of you have striven for the light.
Even Bush killed or captured a number two every month or so to remind the groundlings how to support the holy codpiece. How does it feel to stroke the presidential penis for peace of mind?
My bomb is all I am working on. My bomb is beautiful and targets everyone and everything without discrimination simply to prove that energy and matter are interchangeable and neither means anything.
I intend to be the trigger of this indiscriminate weapon of mass contrition. The detonator is a switch wired to my heart and is normally closed.
Stop the energy if you can, cocksuckers and motherfuckers. Won't mean a thing to the cosmos. Won't mean a thing to me.
Happy Valentines Day.