From: joemahoney1950@gmail.com   
      
   On Wednesday, May 13, 2020 at 10:34:26 AM UTC-4, Joe "Koo-koo for Kavanaugh"    
   Mahoney wrote:   
   > My many masticators of the mango morel, many of you have deluged (sp) me   
   with email begging for more memories of my Fatha, Joe Mahoney Seenya.  So   
   here's a favorite one, that always brings a smile -- as well as a cravering   
   for Bud Lite...   
   >    
   > So we the Mahoneys had moved into our new town of Halifax Maxichusipp's, a   
   town where Dad felt right at home and not "too low class," as he had in many   
   of the neighboring towns, which are slightly close to the City which Dad   
   feared and reviled.     
   >    
   > Why did Dad feel so at home in Halifax?  Well, every restrint heeya serbs   
   one thing: PIZZA.  And with that pizza you get an excellent choice of beeya:   
   Bud, Bud Lite, Coors, or Milla.     
   >    
   > There's a Wal-Mart for any cultural need's one might have.  Lot's of   
   auto-shops.  Coupla spo-its bahs, and most portintly, no book sto-was or any   
   of that Communist gobbidge.  Like I said, Dad -- theya forwa the resta us --   
   felt right at home.     
   >    
   > Now upon our arrible in this wondaful down, Dad noticed the neighba had a   
   great big red noisy lawn-mowa.  And the next day, Dad went out and got one.    
   The SAME EXACT MOTTLE.  Bright red, big, and supa-noisy.  Neil Pert would have   
   been proud.  Dad was    
   very fonda this lawn mowa.  It was almost like one of his DILDOS, only this   
   one cut the grass.   
   >    
   > And a few otha thing's as well.   
   >    
   > Ya see, one aftanoon, as I was whippin up a nice little pre-dinna snack of   
   microwave pizzas, hotpockets, lasonyas, chickum pop pies, and lean cuisines   
   (thems last ones just ta hep me keep my figgaya), I heard Dad HOWLIN outside   
   on his mowa.  I belched    
   loudly in return.  But he continya'd howlerin.  So, summonin as mush speed as   
   I could mustid, I opened the doo-wa and ambled down tow-wids Dad, doin my best   
   not to shit in my pance.   
   >    
   > Dad meanwhile, had been goin round in circles on his Mighty Madder Mowa.    
   Then he turned it off.  Then he started wrigglin his massive butt, tryin to   
   detach himself from the lodge mowa's seat.  Finely he fell off.  And as I   
   approached, he slowly got to    
   his feet.     
   >    
   > "Theya!" he shrieked in his familya falsetto voice wish happened whenebba he   
   get's excitered.  "Theya!" he said pointin.   
   >    
   > I reached the spot, sweatin, puffin, gaspin, fottin.     
   >    
   > And theya indeed, on the groun, was the mangled body of a SNAKE.  Still   
   movin a little bit, but bloodied.  (Surprisingly its blood was red, not green.)   
   >    
   > I watched in fascination at the dyin devil.   
   >    
   > "Yee-Haaa!" Dad bellowed, and then he began STOMPIN the small satan with his   
   clown shoes.  I joined in.     
   >    
   > Eventually it stopped movin and was quite flattened and still.     
   >    
   > We embraced, smearin each otha with sweat, feces and PRIDE.   
   >    
   > "Son," Dad commanded in that high-pitched military voice of his, "Go back to   
   the house and fetch me that case of Bud Lite from the fridge.  This call's fer   
   celebratchims."    
   >    
   > "Yes sir," I Joe Joonya ansad obediantly.  "And the dildos too?"   
   >    
   > Dad beamed with pride: "Why the fuck not?"   
   >    
   > Joe "large and in charge" M.   
      
   Neil was as Christian as they Cum.   
      
   As Christian...   
   As pro-Life   
   As pro-Trump   
   As ID theorist   
   As anti-eblutchims   
   As hata of books   
   As rude at the table   
   As Alt-Rite   
   As Woman-Hating   
   As Pro Trump   
      
   as they CUM.   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)