That time passed over twenty years ago, with the election of Barack Obama as the first black President being the result of the proof of the passing of the need, not the cause.
There’s a…hole in the election of Barack Obama as the first black President being the result of the proof of the passing of the need, not the cause in the bottom of the sea,
There’s a hole in the election of Barack Obama as the first black President being the result of the proof of the passing of the need, not the cause in the bottom of the sea,
There’s a hole, there’s a hole,
There’s a hole in the election of Barack Obama as the first black President being the result of the proof of the passing of the need, not the cause in the bottom of the sea.
18 comments:
You can't dance to it.
That's all you wingnuts do is project project project.
Dear Elijah (Muhammad), a hole!
Uh oh, sounds like RB's foot bone is going to be connected to ZRM's ass bone...
Very humerus.
I dare.
I left my ass bone in San Francisco...
Here comes the skull
Little darling...
Thigh will done
This Gamecock is loads of fun. From the Race 4 2012 site, responding to criticism in the comments:
I am one man with courage making a majority. God spews the lukewarm out of his mouth. My writing career began due to my passionate conversion away from the racist dem party that exploits race, the poor and is weak on defense.
I am a whistleblower than wants the best for America, and the best for my country is not achieved by issue avoidance. Your attitude would cede these important issues to the left by silencing me.
I am a river to my people!
Your attitude would cede these important issues to the left by silencing me.
That's true! Without Mike Gamecock there'd be nobody on the internet complaining about Obama.
It just occurred to me to write the Gamecock version of "The House that Jack built". Except I can't be arsed. Let's pretend that I did write it and that everyone laughed.
I'm poised to make "God spews the lukewarm out of his mouth" the newest internet catchphrase.
It just occurred to me to write the Gamecock version of "The House that Jack built". Except I can't be arsed.
Cut-n-paste, man. This blogging shit's easy.
Gameycock is a spy for the Russkis I think. He's got the code phrases thing going on, I hope. Or he's got writing Tourettes.
It is gratifying to know that when I spew the lukewarm out of my mouth -- not that this happens very often, you understand -- I can claim this as a kind of religious devotion, an Imitation of Christ.
When you have crawled back to consciousness after a party, and you are are staggering around in a non-zomboid manner shielding your eyes from the harsh morning sunlight and finishing off the dregs from the half-empty tepid beer-cans strewn around the kitchen, check them first for cigarette butts. This is one thing life has taught me.
The solution: drink through strainers.
Always with the non-zomboid!
It's a no-brainer.
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