Sunday Sermon with Reverend Dillinger
freedom such a grand editorial for the slaves of father knows best; those two-timed poor bastardos that claim heart is in the home and bullshit like that. so as we go merrily along building our snowmen we find inevitably that warmth is a desire not wasted on the want nots who sit with their fingers up their rear ends hoping, even praying if one has to be so bold, that life will not exact the toll of others as related to the animal kingdom.
trudge, dear hearts, upon the waste land, that place where other beasts roam searching for their daily bread simple survival; not egocentric whorderbies ordered by some ponce who is living off his mother and does not have the guts to stand and be counted, rather deferring choice to voted heads of nothing which we are becoming in this, the greatest country on a dishevelled planet which does not search for warmth nor cold but allows it without choice to be as it should which is right-correct? it is politically satisfying to the preachers of non denominational crap such as those elected by the wind blown empty minded morons who profess freedom of choice. what a fucking joke we are right? then again how would anybody know as where the lords of public proclaim that clarity is a sitation void of deliberation, therefore it is as it should be. take your pumkin pies and throw whipped cream to the wind--no no it will land where you choose it to and not where the wind does blow, no no.
love
signed
animal kingdom of nod where there is a lot of nodding off and oh look! that famous celebray is dead-oh dear oh dear-what's for dinner Marje?
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