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(to be read in deep, resonant tones)
"... and it came to pass that after years of crying wolf and making money off the idea of an apocalypse, the great spirit said unto those hollow priests... verily, cut the crap.
But they refused. they contined to speak in tongues and pimp the ATM machines at their temples. and the great spirit said unto these false prophets, what part of cut the crap didn't you understand.
and one among them, who was known as robberson, reviled the great spirit, and suggested to the people they they take unto themselves a task reserved heretofore to the great spirit.
get thee a covert, he said, and pop a president. not ours, he said, but theirs, for he is a g-dless man leading a people who are way rich in the lifeblood of our nation-- earl. they have earl.
but when the great spirit moved among the people and said unto them this wanker wouldn't know the truth if it bit him in the ass, and neither is a man of g-d, but he is a huckster and a blowhard; and the people they reviled him, and his club began to lose digits, plunging from 700 to 0 quicker than a bush recession.
and unto the people robberson screamed no, and three times he denied saying it.
the people were unimpressed, for verily, they had seen the instant replay.
and so upon the lands, even as the floodwaters began to recede and great clouds of moronic sheepitude began to abate among the people, the great spirit whispered...
the universe is prepping for a major correction, dudes and dudettes. buckle your seatbelts. and i'm gathering the dickheads first, and taking them to the cosmic woodshed for a whoopin' they'll still feel 10,000 years from now. so line them up."
(a nod to bullgoose)
whalerider
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