Archive for January 20th, 2013

For Whom The Bell Tolls

Those who have wondered why I have not posted here much lately should know that I have been consumed by fear and trembling, pretty much paralyzed in the young'un eating santaknowledge that my cats consumed Santa Claus.

Things in life were going pretty well here, until Christmas morning.

Then I arose to discover that two of the felines with whom I share the Manor had caught and killed Santa when he came down the chimney to dispense presents.

The first sight to greet my eyes, on that fateful morn, was the young’un cat plunging into Santa’s drawers, there to feast upon a morsel of his loins.

This harrowing scene is depicted in the photo offered above.

I tried to drive the wanton Claus-consumers away from the fallen fat man, but they snarled and spit and sedulously stood their ground.

By the time I got to the guy, he had gone the way of all flesh.

All that remains now are the upper portions of his pants.

Depicted in dust to dustthe photo there to the right.

I don’t know what is going to happen. I presume the cats will be brought up on charges: at the very least, Assaulting a Figment. I fear I myself shall be charged as an accessory.

So if this site goes dark, you’ll know the reason why. We have all been transported to The Hague.

And, if you didn’t get what you wanted or expected this Christmas, you now know about that, too. Santa never made it to your place. He fell in the line of duty. Here in the Manor.


The Hardest Part Is To Shoot Ramon

Among the people who will not be inaugurated president today is the strange and unusual slave-holder and Hebrew-fearer Pawn Rawl.

In 2012, the 311-year-old Rawl sought the presidency for something like luvs her sum rawnthe 13th time. But no one wanted him.

He ran non-stop, like some chipmunk on speed, from one end of the nation to the other, and back again, throughout the entirety of the GOoPer primary campaign. But in the end he received only 2,095,795 votes. Or roughly the same number of ballots cast in November for Barack Obama in the city of Chicago alone.

Rawl was a favorite of the extraterrestrials who owned and controlled the 2012 GOoPer primary campaign. And so he was induced to remain in the race even after such falling bodies as the pizza topping (Herman Cain), the bedbug in a skin-suit (Newt Gingrich), the farm animal (Rick Perry), and the raccoon (John Huntsman) had crashed and burned.

Perhaps the high point of Rawl’s campaign was when his eyebrows slid off his face during a televised debate.

For reasons that passseth understanding, Rawl had decided he needed to apply eyebrow toupees. When, there on the TV, the things proceeded to melt and migrate all over his dim-bulb phiz, and in a perfect expression of the hapless mendacity that defines everything about the man, his people announced that “allergies” had caused Rawl to suddenly sprout fake, mobile eyebrows.

When a Rawl hot-air balloon deflated and fell to earth onto some i will shoot the germsroad outside a hamlet in South Carolina, it became apparent that the man was but a pale copy of the humbug Wizard of Oz. But by then no one cared.

Rawl not only failed to attain the presidency, but also gave up this year his seat in Congress, where various assorted Texas yeehaws, retroverts, and knuckledraggers had sent him over the past decade, so that he could periodically take to the floor and there mumble darkly about Money.

Rawl has long been a favorite of the sort of people who shoot speed in both arms and then stay up all night cleaning their guns and obsessing about assaults on the American dollar.

Rawl is a partisan of gold, because he has determined that paper money is crawling with germs spread by black and brown and other Wrong people; precious metals, it seems, can retard both the presence and potency of these germs.

Too, people who should otherwise know better would occasionally hug Rawl to their heavy-breathing bosoms, because he spoke out against the US mucking about in foreign lands, and because he disfavored the surveillance state.

What these people failed to get is that Rawl abjures foreign wanderings because he believes all non-Americans to be a form of monkey. He would not war on them, but neither would he give them a crust of bread. He doesn’t want to get involved, in whatever it is that’s going on out there in the world, because he Knows it is the Work of the Jews.

Similarly, his suspicion of the surveillance state arises from fears that gub’mint boys i'm smelting, smeltingmight interfere with the plans of he and his posse to beat with big sticks any black or brown or red or yellow people who happen to wander into their stores and there attempt to purchase a donut.

Now, in retirement, Rawl can return to his primary concern: Occupy Womb Street. Out on the campaign trail, Rawl made no secret of the fact that in an America According To Pawn, all doctors who performed abortions would be lashed into jail, and so would all the women who sought them.

So much for this “libertarian” protector of “freedom.”

All the vaginas, belong to him.

Here at red, we are occasionally able to access alternative universes.

And so today is presented a dispatch from one such Reality. Find below, the inaugural address, of President Pawn Rawl.

When I Worked

January 2013
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