I am writing this from my position as the tail-gunner in a converted surplus US Post Office delivery vehicle as we speed down the 93 towards Paradise in the Valley, where we will rondayvoo at the Kirby Compound. With today being Hitler's birthday and all, there is a great positive vibe that I am feeling all throughout my body. It might also be that the animal style fries have reacted negatively in my stomach with my two double doubles, because I feel a mighty attack of peristalsis and I think we are going to have to pull over.
Dropping a deuce on the side of the road from our urban assault vehicle is no easy feat, and especially for a man of my size. Basically, and I was taught this manoover during my first week of basic training at Camp Covid (cannot disclose the location of the camp), I have to drop my drawers to my ankles while hanging the left cheek of my ass on the back bumper so that I can get good separation. Unfortunately, the reaction between the fries, the swallowed tobacco juices, and my Gentleman Jack created a muzzle velocity that is detailed somewhere on the chart below.
I'm thinking, and I have no way of proving this, that the deuce hit the pavement somewhere around 400 feet per second, which is about as fast as a round from a 357 magnum. Anyway, that was not the issue. The issue was the back splatter, and when I got to my feet, I was a bit dizzy from the experience and I apparently trampled through it and some of it got caught in the treads of my Doc Martens, and I carried that into the vehicle, and no one was happy with that smell. Plus, I can tell you first hand, the wrappers from In-N-Out do not make for good TP. Why we never get napkins is beyond me. I mean they're free.
When we arrived at the Kirby Compound, that's when I knew it was getting real. This woman came out, and she is scary, I mean sphincter puckering scary, and she looks like Cruella De Vil from that movie about them Dalmatians that that Jew Company Disney put out. Just once I'd like to see the Dalmatians eat one of them kids in the movie, just rip a kid from limb to limb. When I watched that movie with my Uncle-Daddy the first time, we just laughed and laughed at that whole possibility.
Okay, time is short and I have to get back on task. Well, we was given our instructions by this Kirby woman about what we was to be doin' at the rally, and she is like the second most powerful Republican in this state. She then circulated a secret plan the Republicans have for wiping out Corona Virus, and I am trying to get a copy of that and post it up on line by tomorrow. I know that I promised it for this post, and I don't want to let you down, but we was movin' fast and it is not like I have a document scanner with me and a laptop, so hold your horses.
Well the instruction was nothing so special, just to basically walk around the Capitol area holding weapons and look menacing, and then break out the Swastika Flags with the Trump + Pence names on them. And then this little touch was extra special because this Kirby woman, in honor of Hitler's birthday, made each Covid-19 Anti-Lockdown Warrior a cupcake with a swastika on it. They tasted even better than they looked.
Well after that we all just sort of hung out at her home and then made our way downtown at dawn. On account of my prior attack of peristalsis, that Kirby woman did not allow me into her home, so I had to sleep on her lawn.
You know, sometimes before we take an action, I get a little misty eyed when I think about how far I have come, because when you see me now, you'd never guess that this was me on New Years Eve, just a few months ago. I was not always the the disciplined military man I am now. Im just going to show you the before and after pictures of me before I got swept up in this nashenalism fever of bein a patriot. So even though this is not too pretty, this is me before:
And this is me after I got myself whipped into shape:
I know that I am almost unrecognizable in the photo above, and it is hard to imagine that it is the same guy in both pictures.
Anyway, I'm just going to clue you in on a little something, the local Republican plan to kill the virus and get the economy back up and running involves the sale of them candles that smell like lady parts that that chick Gwenneth Paltrow is selling, only they is making their own. More on that tomorrow.
Barb, I know we have not been close, but on a day like today, when I think of your Grandpa and my Great Uncle Twice Removed Otto being killed in Auschwitz when he fell from that guard tower, I know I am honoring his memory and doin' him proud by fightin' for our liberation.
I'll write more tomorrow.