“Al-Qaida plotted to kill pope…”

Yep, that’s a headline from today.

So, where’s the problem? Only me, conflicted (yet again), wondering why I hate these rag-fucks who would be so kind as to put a bullet into that foreskin-hatted papist fuck…”the enemy of my enemy is my…” Fuck! No! I hate those swarthy little cocksuckers!!!

Still…if one of them plugs the pope, I think there should be some sort of dispensation…maybe he gets to butt-fuck Annal Nicole Smith before he gets sent to hell with a syringe full of heroin and pig’s blood, eh?

And then he gets to bludgeon Ozzy’s wife and retarded kids to death with a nice selection of frozen ferrets, on pay-per-view, so I don’t ever have to see any of those idiotic mongorroids on my television ever again.

I’d like to find Ozzy, passed out on his couch with his gay little Oscar Wilde glasses on, snoring, while his pet rat drinks saliva off his lolling tongue.

I want to skewer the rat to his couch with a meat fork, then I want to squeeeek two needle-sharp ice picks lightly back and forth across his glass lenses until I see his drug and Alzheimers addled eyballs slowly roll down and try to focus…

…then I want to use every skill I’ve ever learned and practiced to drive each ice pick, together, straight through each iris and into that overcooked haggis he calls a brain.

And of course, I’m outta there then, cuz I no way want to smell whatever falls out of his guts when he shits himself…

Sweet Dreams!


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