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My Country, Right Or Wrong!

It is (or fucking well should be!) known that I do not trust mine, or any other government. Mindless lumbering retards that tromp around with their huge fucking feet, crushing the life out of the lilliputians who made them.

BUT! My government can do no wrong when it is fucking up your government, or you, for that matter, should you happen to be a damn furriner. I don’t care if we pass a law that says you furriners have to get a big purple USDA stamp on your ass when you apply for a tourist visa, and get circumsized on the spot by a bored black fat woman with six inch fingernails and a rusty boxcutter. Fuck you. You don’t like it? Stay home, furriner!

My country is better than your country, hands down. Shit, I can go through my country and find your country somewhere in it, with less disease, better wine, and no snotty furriners cluttering up the place. So you and your whole shitty country can just fuck the hell off. The whole rest of the world could just die the fuck off and I would not miss any part of it. No more stupid soccer cluttering up the upper channels.

Heck, the US is already like a well stocked zoo, or maybe Noah’s Ark…there’s at least one breeding pair of every frigging nationality on the planet here now. I would miss the harmless island peoples…perhaps we can find a way to spare them…

But the rest of you fuckers just have to go. We are tired of having to clean up your pants that you just shit in them your own selfs, we are tired of paying you dumb shits to not attack each other, and for having to jump in between y’all when one of your Moon Ghods tells you that your stars are in Yeranus…and some of us get hurt when you act out, so, get ready. We are getting ready to piss in your chili, and cryin won’t help yah, and prayin won’t do yah no good!

Bring it on.

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