Wednesday, July 4, 2012

burden of poof and the magic firecracker smoke that obscures its necessity

Countless historians on facebook are telling me my freedom is being fought for, which is reassuring, obviously. The detailed pictorial argumentation and precise flag-based analyses got me thinking of the time the raghead tried to kill me with his underpants and the Troop saved me. Every day my freedom is under attack by hill 'n cave people but sometimes I wonder what 'n where my freedom is. I imagine it's something like a king in chess or perhaps it's my johnson (in chess). But what strikes me is just how selfless these people are who want to protect this thing (what?) from these people who want it (who?) for reasons (what?) that are perfectly clear if you stare at the right flag with good in your heart. Aw man, remember the war of irack when the bwah-hah-hajis came after us or the vietgooks who tried to burn down our village and rape our sisters or that Ivan Drago guy who tried to beat up the sausage salesman who had only pugilistic good in his heart? That's what they're talking about.
   

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