Violent Opposition to Livejournal
“Holy shit, Cartman! What the fuck is going on with our Livejournal?” Kyle sat down on the cheap chair that Cartman’s mom used for the computer desk. Cartman’s house was the only place that the boys could blog freely, since Stan’s mom sold their computer to pay the light bill, and Kyle’s mom put in the PERVERTED JUSTICE 1984 virus, spam and independent thought blocker on their computer.
“Mmmmpf, msmpn mpf.” Kenny shook his head and stared at the screen, while Cartman’s fat fingers flew over the keyboard.
“THEY KILLED OUR JOURNALS! THOSE DONKEY RAPING, GOAT BLOWING SHIT EATERS!” Cartman screaming in rage, as Stan and Kyle stared at the screen in disbelief. When they brought up the email address they used, bigdongman at Yahoo dot com, there was a letter from the Livejournal Abuse Team.
Dear Stanley Stud,
The Livejournal Abuse Team is here to protect our site from sick, twisted perverts who seek to use our nice, clean Internet site to show disgusting graphics of a sexual nature that will overstimulate young children and turn them into criminal pedophiles. It has been reported to us that you have been posting graphics of a sexual nature, and therefore it is the decision of the Abuse Team to ban you, block you, pretend you never existed and keep your money for your permanent account. We have also reported you to the authorities in your area, you sick perv, and we hope that you spend a long time in prison for your vile crime against nature and humanity.
You make us sick, and that’s pretty hard to do.
With Bannation in Our Hearts,
Dick.Small AT sixapart.com - Executive Flying Monkey - LJ Abuse Team
The four boys stared in awe at the screen. They were no longer simply four young kids from South Park. They were celebrities. Martyrs. Heroes.
Yeah…HEROES. Goddamn Petrelli style!
As they looked around the site, they saw that people they didn’t even know were rallying to their cause. People were yelling. Cats were being macroed. Butters started a petition. It was the biggest thing to hit South Park since the Terrence and Phillip fiasco. A fundraising drive was started to hire Denny Crane to defend his South Park boy and the others, in this fight against tyranny and censorship.
But in San Francisco, no one responded. No one said anything, except for a couple of guys talking about pedophiles and child porn. But there was absolutely nothing in the way of intelligent dialogue.
And this pissed Eric Cartman off.
Finally, after five long days, during which the town had a parade for freedom, a blood drive for victims of the reaming done by rabid goats, a charity concert by Vanilla Ice and Hot Chocolate and a Politicians for Porn party, Livejournal made an official statement, which Mr. Garrison took the opportunity to use as a class lesson in civics and social studies.
“Now children…let’s examine the post that Mr. Berkowitz posted.” Mr. Garrison turned on the overhead.
“Dude! That’s not Barak!” Kyle shouted out from his seat, as they strained to see the fuzzy image. “That’s a poodle.”
“No, I think it’s a sheep.” Said Stan.
“Now children, I’m pretty sure that’s Mr. Berkowitz.”
“IT’S A FUCKING GOAT, YOU BLIND BITCHES!” Cartman yelled. “I know, because my mommy used to keep one in her room on the third Tuesday of each month.”
“Why Eric, I believe you are correct. It’s an anonymous cartoon goat.” Garrison tipped his head to look, nodding.
“It’s about fucking time. I thought these morons would never figure out how to make a sockpuppet, the fucking morons.” Cartman rolled his eyes.
“ERIC! There will be no abuse of puppets in this classroom!” Garrison pointed his own puppet covered hand at his students. “Now, let’s take a look at the opening. The opening is the guide to the rest of the letter. It tells the reader the purpose of the communication, and the important topics being addressed.” Garrison read aloud, while pointing to the words on the projection screen.
We are sorry it has taken so long to address the concerned community members. From reading the recent comments there's a lot of misinformation regarding the two users who were permanently suspended on Friday. In this post we're going to try and condense and reiterate all of our recent policy clarifications as well as address the most frequent questions we've seen.
“Now, can anyone translate this from business language to common use English? Stan?”
“Yeah, they’re saying that they’ve been jerking off, cuz they didn’t think anyone noticed that they were butt raping us and those two Harry Potter freaks.”
“Very good, Stanley. Now, Kyle, can you elaborate?”
“Well, it says they want to give us the short and straight story of how they fucked up.”
“Now children, when you look at the letter, does it look like they condensed or gave a short explanation?”
“No, Mr. Garrison.” The kids all shook their heads.
“Very good. Now, let’s go past all of the Terms of Service, because the fact is, children, that they don’t really use those to judge anything. Let’s go here, to this part.” Garrison scrolled down, and pointed as he read:
We do not review content until it is reported to us. We will accept all reports of material that is reported to us, regardless of the source, but we will only take action when that material violates our policies.
“I reported them for a group that told girls how to starve to death. I also reported one that taught people how they could beat their kids in places where no teacher or social worker can see the bruises.” Wendy piped up helpfully. “But they told me that they couldn’t do anything at all!”
“Well, Wendy, that’s because those things don’t offend them. But do you children remember when we discussed alternative lifestyles and homophobia? Now, here are the art pieces that got the other two members banned.” The graphics flashed on the screen.
“EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!” The entire classed yelled out, and Kyle puked right next to his desk.
“Dude, what the hell is that on his cheek? Is that mayonnaise?” Kyle wiped his mouth.
“It’s whipped cream, dude.” Stan squinted.
“No, children. Those are body fluids. Now, let’s show the graphic that Eric posted. As you can see, the nudity is full frontal.”
“Holy shit, Cartman! Is that you? What the fuck are you doing to that stuffed goat?” Kyle stared, while Kenny mumbled.
“I was four! I was trying to post it in my journal so my grandma could see it when she was writing her Supernatural slash fiction.” Cartman was defensive, but undaunted, since his newfound celebrity had brought him courage he had never possessed before. “Enough of this bullshit! It’s time for action!.”
Stan, Kyle, Kenny and Cartman all stood and went to the front of the class. They ripped off their ordinary school clothes, and revealed that they wore leather panties, with red capes. Picking up their shields, they looked at Mr. Garrison.
“Those flea bitten twatmonkeys had five days to fix this. Five days! The time for talking is over. It is not enough to debate what a student should do, or a citizen of South Park. We must ask ourselves what a free man would do. If we don’t stand and fight, then Internet tyranny will reign, and what will happen to all my daddies? Daddy Mulder, who wants to butt rape Krycek in the Lincoln Bedroom. Daddy House, who can’t decide between so many places for his cane. Daddy Hsu! Daddy Methos! Daddy Wesley! This must stop! This is not madness, THIS IS SOUTH PARK!”
The four strode out of the class, and boarded Cartman’s porta potty TARDIS. The Doctor would understand. He understood the fight against evil masters. He understood everything. The four soldiers didn’t look back. Only the strong and the hard get to be called Parkans. Only the hard. Only the strong.
The TARDIS landed on a brand new BMW, scratching the fucking shit out of it, in the Six Apart parking lot. As they came out, a young blonde man came running up, tears running down his face.
“MY CAR! You scratched my BABY!”
“No way, dude! Britney Spears did it! We saw her! She went that way, dude!” The boys tried to look innocent, which was hard with the outfits that they wore.
“That bitch! She’s been pissed off since I got married. Hey, who are you guys?” Brad grimaced as he looked at the rolls of pale fat spilling over Cartman’s leather briefs.
Kyle looked at the others, and lied. “We’re on a mission from God, dude. They called us because a giant Stay Puft marshmallow man was seen entering the building, and we have to investigate. So, ummm, who are you, dude?”
“I’m Brad. I invented the Internet.” The sun glinting off his hair was blinding.
“I thought Al Gore invented the Internet?” Stan looked confused, while Kenny mumbled.
“Okay, I invented Livejournal. Then I sold out to a giant corporate entity.” Brad started to walk them to the entry of the building. He waved his magic decoder ring in front of the security device, and they were in! Was it really this easy?
Suddenly, a man appeared. He was dressed in a butler’s uniform, with weird hair and a strange, creepy expression. “Brad, I’m mad, for you, too. But who are these young friends of yours?”
“Aaron! They’re here to save us from some kind of marshmallow monster! Did you see that Britney Spears scratched my Beemer? I think I’m going to be sick. I need to lie down or something.” Brad led them through the dark hall, and a strange, wild eyed woman ran up. She was dressed like a maid, but her eyes looked like she had been doing speed or drinking coffee for days. It was fucking creepy. “Chica! Have you seen the monster that came in? These guys are going to kill it. Oh, and did you see my car? That bitch, Britney, just because I wouldn’t get that tattoo.” Brad rambled as they went on.
Cartman’s superior hearing picked up the sound of…tap dancing? When they neared the elevator, there was a girl in sequined hotpants and a bustier, tap dancing like a poodle on crack who needed to pee. Aaron turned to grin mockingly at the boys. “That’s Rachel. We let her dance for the customers, and no one suspects a thing.”
“Suspects what, dude? That she can’t dance?” Cartman’s eyebrow lifted, just as the elevator descended. There, in a black corset, feather boa, sky high heeled shoes and enough makeup to clean out Sephora, was a man. Not an attractive man. A man. In fishnets. “Holy fucking shit, dude. What the hell is going on in this place?”
“It’s staff meeting day. We have to talk about the big issues here at Livejournal.” Brad turned to the guy in the elevator. “Barak…Britney scratched my caaaaaarrrr.” The whine was sad, and the four boys immediately mocked him by imitating it.
“Finally. You guys are going to meet and talk about your confusing policies about content?” Stan piped up, adjusting his shield.
“No.” Barak shook his head.
“Capricious and draconian deletions?” Kyle queried.
“Not a chance in hell.” Aaron snorted.
Kenny mumbled, the sound nearly lost behind the shield.
“NO! We’re not talking about refunds, First Amendment, lousy customer service, employees who can’t keep their mouths shut, selective censorship, homophobia, shady charity donations, bait and switch, false advertising, IPO’s, liability, right wing neo-Nazi pressure groups, Miller versus anyone, public policy, pedophiles, deleted journals, or any of that SHIT!” Rachel roared over the sound of her tap, tap, tapping.
“So…dude…what do you guys meet about?” Cartman pulled out his sword, and pointed it at Barak’s throat. “Choose your words carefully, corporate bitch, for they just might be your last.”
Barak smiled. It was an evil grin, and then…he farted. And farted again. Pretty soon, they were all farting, all except for Brad, who was cowering behind Cartman. “Why, we’re going to discuss world domination.”
They all reached up, and unzipped their foreheads, and the eerie glow of the blue light filled the hallway.
“Holy shit, dude. Slitheen!” Kyle was ready to run.
“NO RETREAT! NO SURRENDER! THAT IS PARKAN LAW! TODAY, THESE BASTARDS WILL KNOW THAT FOUR FREE MEN…” Cartman looked behind him and sighed. “…AND ONE CORPORATE SELL OUT STOOD AGAINST TYRANNY. THIS IS WHERE WE FIGHT! THIS IS WHERE THEY DIE! THEY WILL LEARN TO RESPECT MY AUTHORITY!” Cartman roared in caplock rage, waving his sword around at the slimy things emerging from the human suits.
The Slitheen who was in the Aaron suit blasted Kenny, who splattered all over the tasteful corporate décor.
“You killed Kenny, you homophobic alien bastards!” Kyle pulled his sword, and got ready to fight.
Stan, however, leaned over to Eric. “Dude…Insane Journal. Forty dollars for a permanent account with four hundred icons.”
The boys looked at each other, then at the monsters in front of them. What to do? Fight an unspeakable monster? Or move on to another place without a fight?
“Let’s go, guys. Fuck this shit. We’ll get Daddy Crane to sue their bitch asses.” Cartman flipped off the monsters and started waddling down the hall, his red cape and belly flesh flapping in the breeze of the air conditioner.
“We’re going to let them get away with this? What the fuck, dude?” Kyle was ready, itching for a fight.
Cartman patted him on the shoulder, with the wisdom of the ages in his eyes. “Live Parklander, grow stronger. Fight another day.”
They strode out, getting back in their TARDIS to return home. Brad remained there, in the parking lot, sobbing over the loss of his perfect vehicle. The monsters inside the building turned on each other, as monsters are known to do. As they began to leave, Cartman noticed a herd of rabid goats entering the building. Darwin’s Laws. Or was it more Murphy’s? Either way, the destruction would be complete, and happen by their own hand.
Three weary warriors of innocence returned as heroes to South Park, with an extra blonde. They fought the good fight, followed the goat path, saved the cheerleader, saved the world and discovered the most important truth of all, the secret that those LJ monsters didn’t understand.
Money talks…bullshit walks.
And the battle was over, for today. Nestled in their beds, with cream on their poor, leather chafed willies, three little boys knew that they were triumphant. They did it for honor. They did it for freedom. It was for the fricking children!
Let freedom ring. Ring a ding ding!
“Mmmmpf, msmpn mpf.” Kenny shook his head and stared at the screen, while Cartman’s fat fingers flew over the keyboard.
“THEY KILLED OUR JOURNALS! THOSE DONKEY RAPING, GOAT BLOWING SHIT EATERS!” Cartman screaming in rage, as Stan and Kyle stared at the screen in disbelief. When they brought up the email address they used, bigdongman at Yahoo dot com, there was a letter from the Livejournal Abuse Team.
Dear Stanley Stud,
The Livejournal Abuse Team is here to protect our site from sick, twisted perverts who seek to use our nice, clean Internet site to show disgusting graphics of a sexual nature that will overstimulate young children and turn them into criminal pedophiles. It has been reported to us that you have been posting graphics of a sexual nature, and therefore it is the decision of the Abuse Team to ban you, block you, pretend you never existed and keep your money for your permanent account. We have also reported you to the authorities in your area, you sick perv, and we hope that you spend a long time in prison for your vile crime against nature and humanity.
You make us sick, and that’s pretty hard to do.
With Bannation in Our Hearts,
Dick.Small AT sixapart.com - Executive Flying Monkey - LJ Abuse Team
The four boys stared in awe at the screen. They were no longer simply four young kids from South Park. They were celebrities. Martyrs. Heroes.
Yeah…HEROES. Goddamn Petrelli style!
As they looked around the site, they saw that people they didn’t even know were rallying to their cause. People were yelling. Cats were being macroed. Butters started a petition. It was the biggest thing to hit South Park since the Terrence and Phillip fiasco. A fundraising drive was started to hire Denny Crane to defend his South Park boy and the others, in this fight against tyranny and censorship.
But in San Francisco, no one responded. No one said anything, except for a couple of guys talking about pedophiles and child porn. But there was absolutely nothing in the way of intelligent dialogue.
And this pissed Eric Cartman off.
Finally, after five long days, during which the town had a parade for freedom, a blood drive for victims of the reaming done by rabid goats, a charity concert by Vanilla Ice and Hot Chocolate and a Politicians for Porn party, Livejournal made an official statement, which Mr. Garrison took the opportunity to use as a class lesson in civics and social studies.
“Now children…let’s examine the post that Mr. Berkowitz posted.” Mr. Garrison turned on the overhead.
“Dude! That’s not Barak!” Kyle shouted out from his seat, as they strained to see the fuzzy image. “That’s a poodle.”
“No, I think it’s a sheep.” Said Stan.
“Now children, I’m pretty sure that’s Mr. Berkowitz.”
“IT’S A FUCKING GOAT, YOU BLIND BITCHES!” Cartman yelled. “I know, because my mommy used to keep one in her room on the third Tuesday of each month.”
“Why Eric, I believe you are correct. It’s an anonymous cartoon goat.” Garrison tipped his head to look, nodding.
“It’s about fucking time. I thought these morons would never figure out how to make a sockpuppet, the fucking morons.” Cartman rolled his eyes.
“ERIC! There will be no abuse of puppets in this classroom!” Garrison pointed his own puppet covered hand at his students. “Now, let’s take a look at the opening. The opening is the guide to the rest of the letter. It tells the reader the purpose of the communication, and the important topics being addressed.” Garrison read aloud, while pointing to the words on the projection screen.
We are sorry it has taken so long to address the concerned community members. From reading the recent comments there's a lot of misinformation regarding the two users who were permanently suspended on Friday. In this post we're going to try and condense and reiterate all of our recent policy clarifications as well as address the most frequent questions we've seen.
“Now, can anyone translate this from business language to common use English? Stan?”
“Yeah, they’re saying that they’ve been jerking off, cuz they didn’t think anyone noticed that they were butt raping us and those two Harry Potter freaks.”
“Very good, Stanley. Now, Kyle, can you elaborate?”
“Well, it says they want to give us the short and straight story of how they fucked up.”
“Now children, when you look at the letter, does it look like they condensed or gave a short explanation?”
“No, Mr. Garrison.” The kids all shook their heads.
“Very good. Now, let’s go past all of the Terms of Service, because the fact is, children, that they don’t really use those to judge anything. Let’s go here, to this part.” Garrison scrolled down, and pointed as he read:
We do not review content until it is reported to us. We will accept all reports of material that is reported to us, regardless of the source, but we will only take action when that material violates our policies.
“I reported them for a group that told girls how to starve to death. I also reported one that taught people how they could beat their kids in places where no teacher or social worker can see the bruises.” Wendy piped up helpfully. “But they told me that they couldn’t do anything at all!”
“Well, Wendy, that’s because those things don’t offend them. But do you children remember when we discussed alternative lifestyles and homophobia? Now, here are the art pieces that got the other two members banned.” The graphics flashed on the screen.
“EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!” The entire classed yelled out, and Kyle puked right next to his desk.
“Dude, what the hell is that on his cheek? Is that mayonnaise?” Kyle wiped his mouth.
“It’s whipped cream, dude.” Stan squinted.
“No, children. Those are body fluids. Now, let’s show the graphic that Eric posted. As you can see, the nudity is full frontal.”
“Holy shit, Cartman! Is that you? What the fuck are you doing to that stuffed goat?” Kyle stared, while Kenny mumbled.
“I was four! I was trying to post it in my journal so my grandma could see it when she was writing her Supernatural slash fiction.” Cartman was defensive, but undaunted, since his newfound celebrity had brought him courage he had never possessed before. “Enough of this bullshit! It’s time for action!.”
Stan, Kyle, Kenny and Cartman all stood and went to the front of the class. They ripped off their ordinary school clothes, and revealed that they wore leather panties, with red capes. Picking up their shields, they looked at Mr. Garrison.
“Those flea bitten twatmonkeys had five days to fix this. Five days! The time for talking is over. It is not enough to debate what a student should do, or a citizen of South Park. We must ask ourselves what a free man would do. If we don’t stand and fight, then Internet tyranny will reign, and what will happen to all my daddies? Daddy Mulder, who wants to butt rape Krycek in the Lincoln Bedroom. Daddy House, who can’t decide between so many places for his cane. Daddy Hsu! Daddy Methos! Daddy Wesley! This must stop! This is not madness, THIS IS SOUTH PARK!”
The four strode out of the class, and boarded Cartman’s porta potty TARDIS. The Doctor would understand. He understood the fight against evil masters. He understood everything. The four soldiers didn’t look back. Only the strong and the hard get to be called Parkans. Only the hard. Only the strong.
The TARDIS landed on a brand new BMW, scratching the fucking shit out of it, in the Six Apart parking lot. As they came out, a young blonde man came running up, tears running down his face.
“MY CAR! You scratched my BABY!”
“No way, dude! Britney Spears did it! We saw her! She went that way, dude!” The boys tried to look innocent, which was hard with the outfits that they wore.
“That bitch! She’s been pissed off since I got married. Hey, who are you guys?” Brad grimaced as he looked at the rolls of pale fat spilling over Cartman’s leather briefs.
Kyle looked at the others, and lied. “We’re on a mission from God, dude. They called us because a giant Stay Puft marshmallow man was seen entering the building, and we have to investigate. So, ummm, who are you, dude?”
“I’m Brad. I invented the Internet.” The sun glinting off his hair was blinding.
“I thought Al Gore invented the Internet?” Stan looked confused, while Kenny mumbled.
“Okay, I invented Livejournal. Then I sold out to a giant corporate entity.” Brad started to walk them to the entry of the building. He waved his magic decoder ring in front of the security device, and they were in! Was it really this easy?
Suddenly, a man appeared. He was dressed in a butler’s uniform, with weird hair and a strange, creepy expression. “Brad, I’m mad, for you, too. But who are these young friends of yours?”
“Aaron! They’re here to save us from some kind of marshmallow monster! Did you see that Britney Spears scratched my Beemer? I think I’m going to be sick. I need to lie down or something.” Brad led them through the dark hall, and a strange, wild eyed woman ran up. She was dressed like a maid, but her eyes looked like she had been doing speed or drinking coffee for days. It was fucking creepy. “Chica! Have you seen the monster that came in? These guys are going to kill it. Oh, and did you see my car? That bitch, Britney, just because I wouldn’t get that tattoo.” Brad rambled as they went on.
Cartman’s superior hearing picked up the sound of…tap dancing? When they neared the elevator, there was a girl in sequined hotpants and a bustier, tap dancing like a poodle on crack who needed to pee. Aaron turned to grin mockingly at the boys. “That’s Rachel. We let her dance for the customers, and no one suspects a thing.”
“Suspects what, dude? That she can’t dance?” Cartman’s eyebrow lifted, just as the elevator descended. There, in a black corset, feather boa, sky high heeled shoes and enough makeup to clean out Sephora, was a man. Not an attractive man. A man. In fishnets. “Holy fucking shit, dude. What the hell is going on in this place?”
“It’s staff meeting day. We have to talk about the big issues here at Livejournal.” Brad turned to the guy in the elevator. “Barak…Britney scratched my caaaaaarrrr.” The whine was sad, and the four boys immediately mocked him by imitating it.
“Finally. You guys are going to meet and talk about your confusing policies about content?” Stan piped up, adjusting his shield.
“No.” Barak shook his head.
“Capricious and draconian deletions?” Kyle queried.
“Not a chance in hell.” Aaron snorted.
Kenny mumbled, the sound nearly lost behind the shield.
“NO! We’re not talking about refunds, First Amendment, lousy customer service, employees who can’t keep their mouths shut, selective censorship, homophobia, shady charity donations, bait and switch, false advertising, IPO’s, liability, right wing neo-Nazi pressure groups, Miller versus anyone, public policy, pedophiles, deleted journals, or any of that SHIT!” Rachel roared over the sound of her tap, tap, tapping.
“So…dude…what do you guys meet about?” Cartman pulled out his sword, and pointed it at Barak’s throat. “Choose your words carefully, corporate bitch, for they just might be your last.”
Barak smiled. It was an evil grin, and then…he farted. And farted again. Pretty soon, they were all farting, all except for Brad, who was cowering behind Cartman. “Why, we’re going to discuss world domination.”
They all reached up, and unzipped their foreheads, and the eerie glow of the blue light filled the hallway.
“Holy shit, dude. Slitheen!” Kyle was ready to run.
“NO RETREAT! NO SURRENDER! THAT IS PARKAN LAW! TODAY, THESE BASTARDS WILL KNOW THAT FOUR FREE MEN…” Cartman looked behind him and sighed. “…AND ONE CORPORATE SELL OUT STOOD AGAINST TYRANNY. THIS IS WHERE WE FIGHT! THIS IS WHERE THEY DIE! THEY WILL LEARN TO RESPECT MY AUTHORITY!” Cartman roared in caplock rage, waving his sword around at the slimy things emerging from the human suits.
The Slitheen who was in the Aaron suit blasted Kenny, who splattered all over the tasteful corporate décor.
“You killed Kenny, you homophobic alien bastards!” Kyle pulled his sword, and got ready to fight.
Stan, however, leaned over to Eric. “Dude…Insane Journal. Forty dollars for a permanent account with four hundred icons.”
The boys looked at each other, then at the monsters in front of them. What to do? Fight an unspeakable monster? Or move on to another place without a fight?
“Let’s go, guys. Fuck this shit. We’ll get Daddy Crane to sue their bitch asses.” Cartman flipped off the monsters and started waddling down the hall, his red cape and belly flesh flapping in the breeze of the air conditioner.
“We’re going to let them get away with this? What the fuck, dude?” Kyle was ready, itching for a fight.
Cartman patted him on the shoulder, with the wisdom of the ages in his eyes. “Live Parklander, grow stronger. Fight another day.”
They strode out, getting back in their TARDIS to return home. Brad remained there, in the parking lot, sobbing over the loss of his perfect vehicle. The monsters inside the building turned on each other, as monsters are known to do. As they began to leave, Cartman noticed a herd of rabid goats entering the building. Darwin’s Laws. Or was it more Murphy’s? Either way, the destruction would be complete, and happen by their own hand.
Three weary warriors of innocence returned as heroes to South Park, with an extra blonde. They fought the good fight, followed the goat path, saved the cheerleader, saved the world and discovered the most important truth of all, the secret that those LJ monsters didn’t understand.
Money talks…bullshit walks.
And the battle was over, for today. Nestled in their beds, with cream on their poor, leather chafed willies, three little boys knew that they were triumphant. They did it for honor. They did it for freedom. It was for the fricking children!
Let freedom ring. Ring a ding ding!