Thursday, July 02, 2009

On Survival of the Species

By now, many of you have heard the news, for news of this magnitude and joy spreads faster than a commie whore's thighs. Yes, it's true. I have knocked up MY BELOVED MOMMY. Now, before you all start groaning about incest or jumping up on pedestals proclaiming interspecies procreation an impossibility, know that I have created in MY BELOVED MOTHER'S womb an immaculate conception.

YEA, it is true.

Sure, My Beloved Mother (May The Warm Sun of Peace Shine Eternally Upon Her Glorious Countenance) is telling people that the life in her belly is the progeny of that inglorious Interlopeur, but this is only because if she did not, he would sob and cry like the surrender-loving monkey that he is. Yet you, avid and insatiable readers, you and I know the truth. I am going to be a daddy.

In preparation for entry into fatherhood (for no bitch can prove my paternity of the many, many Billy-look-alikes languishing in shelters and less savory homes than mine across America), I am preparing a festive fourth of July celebration, for I am not (I repeat) NOT afraid of fireworks.

LONG LIVE AMERICA!