Outrage. Uproarious Outrage.

That just pisses me me right off.

What?

That laughter is the best medicine bullshit. Tell that to all those gruesome ghostboys on Iwo Jima and Omaha Beach. They’d laugh you right to hell.

I know.

Death comes to us all.

Yeah.

How about man-eating ants taking their sweet ass time gorging bit by itty bitty bit on your boney ass because you’re paralyzed because a goddamn asp bit you in that boney ass.

Hardeeharhar.

And don’t look at me like I don’t know that you’re thinking I’m an idiot for worrying about the FACT that nuclear weapons are being stored and handled and monitored and altogether CARED FOR by dumbass numbnutted idiots with no ambition.

I said it.

Numbnutted.

It’s a word. Look it up.

But it does not change a single atomic particle of the truth that Armageddon is being quote unquote held at bay by people who may have been let go prematurely by the local community college where they may have come into contact with the herpes virus.

Fucking irks my fucking ire.

And don’t get me started on the assheaded spacepeople with their peniseyes and vaginamouths and horrendous ideas about nutrition and sex.

Do not get me started.

Because I will not stop.

Except maybe for the Indy 500.

But who wouldn’t?

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