When Sheeple go MOO, a major wave of cognitive dissonance sets into things and that's never a good situation with Sarah Palin so it probably means Bristol Palin will turn up pregnant again. Love those family values which apparently tell her to spread her unholy get all over Creation.
(Ed: do you really care about bastard children?)
Fuck no. Almost all of the worst bastards in the world came from traditional values families so the word only has value inside a church where they mostly only talk about politics anyway. Maybe it's not too long before the Morality Police insist it should change from hence forward the B-word.
When the Papa Poker turns out to be nothing more than a worthless stick man, she's better off without his worthless ass but she's going to have one hell of a hard ride in life after that. I hear she gets loads of goodies and bennies from the state but I don't even believe Baby Mama thinks that's worth it. The number of teen pregnancies been dropping steadily for years so that which is ostensibly a gold mine hasn't been revealed to be any kind of enticement to kids to drop random babies around the place. With that knowledge, I can't say I have a problem with helping them, particularly when these so-called goodies won't even go millimeters toward resolving the much bigger problems a single mother will have.
(Ed: benefits to you suck)
Perhaps we could review: I do not have any babies.
(Ed: it's a Democratic world and you should get money for that)
You're one of those fucking Clintonistas, aren't you. Obama didn't help and you won't either. Piss off. We don't like you.
Today it dawned why some American Catholics hate Pope Francis and wish for him an early departure from the planet. That's most likely because a whole lot more American Catholics don't hate him and nothing smokes their barbecues more than that.
(Ed: Pope Francis doesn't like Clinton)
Roll with it, Dagwood. No-one likes Clinton.
(Ed: millions of voters like her!)
Yah, sure. Throw them a Doggy Yummy and they will roll over on their backs so you can scratch their tummies.
(Ed: are you trying to write serious politics?)
Refresh my memory, if you would, Dagwood. Were you looking for serious politics?
If'n yer looking for something serious, consider almost every women I have known very well in my life was abused as a child, typically by relatives. Do you hear anyone talking about that other than the few who are willing to speak. Yah, go off and be serious with that if you like. Come back when you work up something which rhymes.
I thought he was my uncle
I thought he was my friend
But then he grabbed my ass
and I hit the bitter end
I shot the motherfucker
and killed him where he stood
now what will you do
with your worthless wimpy wood
(Ed: that doesn't rhyme!)
So, you're going to bust my ass, Mister William? Actually it does kind of rhyme and yer problem is more likely with the trite metre. Note: the meaning is similar but not precisely the same as metre for poetry. In this case, it's trite musically and poetically.
MOO!
Say there, Moo Girl, does Bill Clinton remind you of The Joker?
That elicited the image of John Boehner crying.
God help me, nothing breaks my heart like crying Republicans (sob).
I gave up on trying to peg any regulars as Republicans because no-one will admit it anymore. It's like playing Whack-A-Mole at an amusement park and if you do whack the bitch it starts crying! Therefore, we conclude there are no Republicans left and they have transmogrified into Democrats while they laugh their asses off at the Clintonistas because the Republicans know all about throwing Doggy Yummies.
(Ed: this is the Election Season of the Doggy Yummies?)
Right you are, Dagwood. Get yerself some catnip and you can draw most of the (cough) men as well (larfs).
(Ed: do you really care about bastard children?)
Fuck no. Almost all of the worst bastards in the world came from traditional values families so the word only has value inside a church where they mostly only talk about politics anyway. Maybe it's not too long before the Morality Police insist it should change from hence forward the B-word.
When the Papa Poker turns out to be nothing more than a worthless stick man, she's better off without his worthless ass but she's going to have one hell of a hard ride in life after that. I hear she gets loads of goodies and bennies from the state but I don't even believe Baby Mama thinks that's worth it. The number of teen pregnancies been dropping steadily for years so that which is ostensibly a gold mine hasn't been revealed to be any kind of enticement to kids to drop random babies around the place. With that knowledge, I can't say I have a problem with helping them, particularly when these so-called goodies won't even go millimeters toward resolving the much bigger problems a single mother will have.
(Ed: benefits to you suck)
Perhaps we could review: I do not have any babies.
(Ed: it's a Democratic world and you should get money for that)
You're one of those fucking Clintonistas, aren't you. Obama didn't help and you won't either. Piss off. We don't like you.
Today it dawned why some American Catholics hate Pope Francis and wish for him an early departure from the planet. That's most likely because a whole lot more American Catholics don't hate him and nothing smokes their barbecues more than that.
(Ed: Pope Francis doesn't like Clinton)
Roll with it, Dagwood. No-one likes Clinton.
(Ed: millions of voters like her!)
Yah, sure. Throw them a Doggy Yummy and they will roll over on their backs so you can scratch their tummies.
(Ed: are you trying to write serious politics?)
Refresh my memory, if you would, Dagwood. Were you looking for serious politics?
If'n yer looking for something serious, consider almost every women I have known very well in my life was abused as a child, typically by relatives. Do you hear anyone talking about that other than the few who are willing to speak. Yah, go off and be serious with that if you like. Come back when you work up something which rhymes.
I thought he was my uncle
I thought he was my friend
But then he grabbed my ass
and I hit the bitter end
I shot the motherfucker
and killed him where he stood
now what will you do
with your worthless wimpy wood
(Ed: that doesn't rhyme!)
So, you're going to bust my ass, Mister William? Actually it does kind of rhyme and yer problem is more likely with the trite metre. Note: the meaning is similar but not precisely the same as metre for poetry. In this case, it's trite musically and poetically.
MOO!
Say there, Moo Girl, does Bill Clinton remind you of The Joker?
That elicited the image of John Boehner crying.
God help me, nothing breaks my heart like crying Republicans (sob).
I gave up on trying to peg any regulars as Republicans because no-one will admit it anymore. It's like playing Whack-A-Mole at an amusement park and if you do whack the bitch it starts crying! Therefore, we conclude there are no Republicans left and they have transmogrified into Democrats while they laugh their asses off at the Clintonistas because the Republicans know all about throwing Doggy Yummies.
(Ed: this is the Election Season of the Doggy Yummies?)
Right you are, Dagwood. Get yerself some catnip and you can draw most of the (cough) men as well (larfs).
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