At a gas station in downtown Lancaster, Pennsylvania…
Nero: Look at this. They have the mounted cops protecting them.
James: Do you see this?
Nero: Hard, harder and hardly better.
The Chariot of Pictdom careens slowly onto the asphalt thoroughfare and The Khan, achieving far sight through his well worn avatar across the centuries from his dank barrow mound, appraises the flesh parade of the confused…
James: No. No. No. Not at all. With blood caking my eyes, perhaps.
Nero: Yes, oh Khan, this is looking rough.
James: No, no, no—nah. No, never. Not her—drunk enough for the room to spin, maybe.
Nero: Her?
James: Good man, the Dominican babe with the giant ass—quite serviceable.
Nero: There was…
James: No, no sister, sorry, not today, not tomorrow, no—hellll no!
Nero: I’ve counted two doables.
James: Alright, the young, witless thing with the napkin bikini top, but only on a pile of liberal dead.
Nero: this ought to be a podcast.
James: I’m seeing a positive liberal trend. By celebrating all these ugly bitchez being gay, the desirability of remaining breeders is thusly enhanced and the chances of my cock and balls staging a mutiny and taking over are at exactly nil in this situation.
Nero: Copy that.
On Bitches
link › jameslafond.blogspot.com
Your Trojan Whorse
