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...
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I guess that says it all.
JDC
Lucky for me, wooden trestles went out with Casey Jones and the Cannonball Express, so I can earn a crust using steel and re-inforced concrete.
A cross doesn't seem like it'd be a very effective bridge, what with that big hump in the middle. How the hell are we supposed to get over it? Wait, I know. Does it have something to do with why there's only one set of footprints because that's when Jesus was carrying us?