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If you listen closely as you read this, you can hear me reaching hard to create three, I may have torn a rotator cuff
I come here today my friends not to bury John McCain, but to praise him. To share a tender loving family values snibble of time that I hope transcends politics. You see my friends the presidential campaign trail is long and hard, like a penis, and at one point on that long, hard, soul sucking, maverick busting into party yes man presidential campaign trail, John's loving wife Cindy came up to him, ran her beerlicous fingers through his hair and said, "You're getting a little thin up there." A moment of tender humanity in the loveless inhuman world that is American presidential politics. "At least I don't plaster on the makeup like a trollop, you cunt" Is what John McCain said by way of reply. I'm not making that up. Three reporters witnessed it. God that's hot. I bet they had steaming sex that night. White-hot nuclear powered cuntaramic sex until that makeup ran down Cindy McCain's face like water through a hydroelectric dam. Which means it...
I am John McCunt and I Approve This Message
Why do I want to be your president? Because goddamn it, I've earned it. Hell, I was an admiral's son, I didn't have to go to goddamn Vietnam, get shot down and deal with all those goddamn sadistic gook prison guards. No, I went because my prick of a father and his asshole of a father were goddamn admirals, for Christ's sake, and I had no choice but to pay off the poker bet I made with them and join the goddamn Navy. And after five years of eating goddamn rats and getting poked up the ass with hot bamboo sticks, then I gotta return to the states to a limping gimp of a wife who got herself fucked up in a car accident and got all fat on me? The cunt ended up with an ass on her the width of a Volkswagen, and after all I'd been through at the Hanoi Hilton, I was expected to come home and fuck that fat cunt? Hell, no! Then I met Cindy, who was hotter'n a two dollar pistol and her dad owned a beer factory. Why did I dump my fat ass first wife and get with Cindy? Bec...
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"They like to nap."
That's 'cause Blair slipped the little monsters half an Ambien apiece. It's so much more convienent than parenting.
Katie,
I'm not from down there nor do I live there, but isn't it Mammoth Lake, as in singular?
"ate turkey and all the trimmings, and watched 'Nacho Libre.' Such a silly, funny movie."
Does Blair like to wear tight, stretchy pants for fun, too?
Dale, I jumped on this one, too. Since "youth pastor" is all too often the code for either "closet homosexual" or "paedophile", I can only imagine just what Baby Bro Blair was "leading them into"... as likely as not, a good ol' session of split the unseeded bun...
I actually think this episode of CT was ghost written. I mean it's the first time in months she hasn't begged for us all to pray for her.
blair wears quacker factory sets that are equally shameful. it's those stretchy pants coordinated with matching tops and body murals. truly creepy.