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Consumption Malfunction - reader's indigestion

There's no I in KGB: FBI

August 4th 2008 01:07
The Bachelor reads you his rights

The FBI, a benevolent organisation run by vacuum-cleaning magnate Ed Hoover, is furious that it has been likened to the KGB, a malevolent organisation run by bereft-leaning idealogues.

"When we want to get rid of someone," a spokesperson for the burning-cross-dressing clan told the free and the brave, "we just kill them."

It is understood that the KGB, a secret harm of the now dismantled Columnist's block, was happier to see its revolters sent to prison.

"We're not against that as such," the spokesperson said, putting a pillow-case on a pensioner's head.

"If we find someone revolting we usually just close our eyes," they said, chaining freedom to poor people and throwing away the key.

"The key is acquiring property and wealth," they said, putting a few paupers behind bars as white killer criminals escape our conceit of justice.

Ed Hoover, a mouth like an unctious cup, frigger-head for the wheels of the just, the poppy-master for millions of addicts, homo for the free and the manlady of the craven, is wearing pretty thin.

"I look like an emancipated Negro," his corpse moaned from deep below the surface, frying chicken.

"I was always way ahead of my time," the obese, secretly serviced, Mephisto told Liberace, praying with his keys.




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The bland, leading the bland, have met with their one true mister - a one-eyed wizard with one hand down his pants and the other down yours.

"I mean you no harm," he said stroking a severed head of letters.

It is understood the King, an objective observer and ghastly superior, sees everything and in great depth.

"I hate it when issues get personal," the intellectual giant beseeched his hairdresser, who primly blabbed to the Medea.

The bland, unable to read between the lines, appointed their king in a lavish ceremony that pleased their lord and masturbator.

"My kingdom for an accolade!" the King told his optometrist as he tried on another set of spectacles.

The King will be trying to write his weight out of a wet paper bag to show off his mate.

"I am the Queen of the world!" he shouted, straddling his sinking shit.

His ship don't stink.

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