The Deadly Fan Club

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Liberals were people who worked very hard. They were shot, slapped and insulted, in the end turning their backs in compassion fatigue. The climate of insults that enclosed me was part of a prior partnership between Vince Eirene, Andrea Swimmer and Mark Mancine. Ringo Starr’s allegations were just as bolt from the blue, unexpected and slaughteringly brutal as Kasperoski’s; but how did the Christian Right transform such murderous Sandy Hook style deadly force against a child as though it were some cause worthy and triumphant?

The language of the Burstyn script was ignored to Pittsburgh and Seattle’s convenience. She writes around the subject of pedophile capture, sneering of a prize who gets bad headaches but behaves better for them. She coyly describes the wuss, who she condemns, as Trump would, for being weak, as nearly being killed being forced to make a decision, it is allusion she sums up with the word: swallow and laughs, “Love (in jest).” Despite all these clues, Reagan just went ahead along with it.

The British have forced me to waste my life answering lies in slave labors after setting up the kill with a ribald tale for Riback about the clerk’s wife. I loved who I thought she was. I learned the truth about the way that women make themselves sex objects to evade responsibility for their influence shaping a man’s character. Women, too, fell to the lick the jackboot of the conquerors.

The Christian Right brutality little Jimmy into compliant behaviors, then leered at the stains. Whether informed by the CIA’s motto: The Truth will set you free, or Peter Gabriel’s: You Gotta get in to get out; the pursuit of evidence was a game of playing into the vanisher’s trap. You find out what happened in the guillotine.

Using the symbolism of Lennon, while Midori Goto authored her virginity as a medium for weaponizing AIDS in a war operation, inciting the infinite satisfy of deaf Jeannie’s rape, the race soothsay of ripper murdering Shannon Harps, with a partnership fraud selling that the Isis types in Nation of Islam watchdog over scabs had sacred domination to be appeasered by Louie dibs. Humiliation and loss were made mandatory in the search for credibility and identity. Sainthood was offered at the point of a gun by disciples of Maximile Kolbe willing to die of the weapon they’d offered. The hippy ship was illustrated to be a campaign of pale defsukke white privilege, insinuating on the almighty in which the sexual liberator was found out as racism incarnate. Kowtow to New York power structure. Kowtow to Trump and Muhammed Ali.

From this advantage in dark manipulation, an alliance between the Fighting Words Verdict and Political Correctness, allowing no insight, the exercised the ingenious ability to shape the rhetoric of the opposition by framing the issues so as to offer their capture its own argument, luring the jab of a comeback, signaling when to sing, in Holocaust trance, its lines of strangulated satire, that by cunning and advance planning the Christian Right could seeth that their horns were all the more justified, that insult had been added to injury, slapping five at the barbershop.

The people were weird. The Queers decided they would rather see the whole world die than rescue a white from police pedophile Sotheby Black Markets. They joined hands with their own killers in an insidious game of the Walrus. From there they made a lampoon, “Dah Lawd!” of being mentations in the capture for supernatural settlement by Gabriel firebombs, cooed over as beautiful by Franklin Graham, still unacknowledged. Some victory for Gays.

As a child I was set upon by a gang like the one who set a girl on fire to death in an alley. Getting their dark encryptions I noted the reverse of Starkey’s name: Keyster, or Gister. Carrie Gister, gassed her and kissed her. Over the years I’ve come to understand while Michael called us: Mental Midgets.
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