(no subject)
I feel like I've been taking an eight year long dump. For eight agonizing years I'd been struggling and pushing as hard as I could, but with each State of the Union adress, each nationl crisis handled so poorly that it would be funny if it wasn't actually happening, every blatant, bold faced lie that Dick Cheney didn't even make a feeble attempt to make seem plausible, the turd just wouldn't seem to come out of my ass.
Two days ago, my bowels wilted like a flower and let it loose. It had been so long, I forgot what it was like not to be in the middle of a massive, endless shit. Well, now the plumber is here. His name is Barack Obama, and he's come to flush Bush, Cheney, Karl "Gay-Rape" Rove, James Inhofe, Michael Buttsavage, and the rest of the crew down the toilet with the rest of history's festering, steamy turds where they belong.
Two days ago, my bowels wilted like a flower and let it loose. It had been so long, I forgot what it was like not to be in the middle of a massive, endless shit. Well, now the plumber is here. His name is Barack Obama, and he's come to flush Bush, Cheney, Karl "Gay-Rape" Rove, James Inhofe, Michael Buttsavage, and the rest of the crew down the toilet with the rest of history's festering, steamy turds where they belong.