The best part of politics: because they're all screwing us anyway.

Saturday, September 10, 2005

Rude Pundit comes up with the grossest possible scenario yet again

From his vision of the 9/11 "Freedom Walk" commemoration:

Yep, all that meat will be laced with love doves, and just as the Freedom Walkers begin to feel that heat course through their bodies, as the Army Marching Band blares "America the Beautiful," Dick and Lynne Cheney will appear and begin to fuck madly on the stage, with Dick yellin', "Lemme slam my jumbo jet into your Foggy Bottom of love." Donald Rumsfeld'll bring out a model of the Twin Towers and shove them into Condi's asshole and cooz, the Secretary of State wearing nothing but Ferragamo shoes, shrieking in toothy orgasm as Rumsfeld tries to desperately masturbate onto Condi's hair. This'll be a signal for the real freedom to begin: the clothes'll start bein' ripped off as everyone begins to writhe in the blood and meat spilled all over the ground of the National Mall, fellating and rimming and muff diving and fucking hard and fucking soft and fucking for God, for country, for Bush, all for freedom, man, all for the victims, all for the troops, all, all for lettin' freedom fuckin' ring.

Slam his jumbo jet into her Foggy Bottom of love? That's certainly a new one.


  • At 6:17 PM, Blogger halcyon67 said…

    The sad thing is that, it is probably true.

  • At 1:44 AM, Blogger Joe said…

    That one was over-the-top, even for the Rude One.

  • At 2:17 AM, Blogger Boinkette said…

    I don't know...Bush fucking a squirrel monkey to death was pretty over-the-top. But yeah, this is definitely going to give me nightmares...*cringes*

  • At 10:05 AM, Blogger Michael J. West said…

    So then Dennis Hastert, shocked into silence, says, "That's a Hell of an act. What do you call it?"

    And the entire Administration says, "The Aristocrats!"

  • At 2:14 PM, Blogger Boinkette said…

    That was fuckin' brilliant, Mike...

  • At 1:14 AM, Blogger jurassicpork said…

    I was dying for an opportunity to use that Aristocrats punchline. This is what I get for waiting.

    James Dobson will saunter onto stage and ask the exhausted, sweaty, semen soaked, blood-covered Freedom Walkers for a moment of silence for our new corpses in the Gulf Coast, our Big Easy floaters, treated like so many turds in the stopped-up toilets of hell.

    God only knows why I stopped reading this guy for as long as I did.


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