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  • It all began on a warm sultry night in Key West. I couldn't believe what I saw, a Jeep pulling a wheelie across a mound of cheese-eating surrender monkeys. The stench of odor coming from the burnt cheesy monkey feces reminded my father in-law of a zombie eating sweet potatoes on a fat sassy, naked, old Rosie O'Donnell cut-out.

    Turned to Wifey and said: "That's what you get when you take one too many bottles of Viagra." Naturally, she replied: "but without them, you are worthless in the sack." After that comment, I grabbed my Jeep keys and proclaimed to them, "She will never be satisfied with Wrinkly old men, so she can always go to Poppy's Zombie Army as Chief of the flinger's of fluorescent monkey dung and little midget Hello-Kitty litter boxes!

    Your father will have a cow when he hears about all the nuns you deflowered while you were a real boy loving chicken-hawk priest wearing Spandex pants.

    Just then, a real cheese smoker walked in and unwound Saran Wrap. “I hate this rancid french crapolla," he wrote on the inside of a russet potato. “I’d rather drive all the way to Gary, Indiana for shriveled Cheez-Whiz and a hot stuffed Tigger doll encased in Viagra and dipped in Cialis and chocolate covered vials of Colombian jumping frog spooge.

    Suddenly, an explosion erupted from my favorite crusted Canadian behemoth bottle opener. The fragrance was as intoxicating as A fat sweaty honkey. I then took a long stick and poked her in the elbow because dangerous things happen when you smile too much.
    Whereupon savage teenage panty sniffers with olfactory fatigue barely noticed the overpowering stench of Kimbie-eyed sweet potatoes wafting out of the northwest corner of the hot, old Jeep factory.

    Sigfried and Roy simultaneously passed gas into a small tiger statue while holding panties overhead and chanting: "Jeep smells like mud!" Suddenly, in came a birthday wish. For two thousand dollars she would shiver your timbers. Flaming timing belts have been known to produce similar reactions in pigs whenever birthday cakes play the banjo.

    Meanwhile, back at the chicken ranch in Washinton DC ... ,Pelosi passed gas

    Comment


    • It all began on a warm sultry night in Key West. I couldn't believe what I saw, a Jeep pulling a wheelie across a mound of cheese-eating surrender monkeys. The stench of odor coming from the burnt cheesy monkey feces reminded my father in-law of a zombie eating sweet potatoes on a fat sassy, naked, old Rosie O'Donnell cut-out.

      Turned to Wifey and said: "That's what you get when you take one too many bottles of Viagra." Naturally, she replied: "but without them, you are worthless in the sack." After that comment, I grabbed my Jeep keys and proclaimed to them, "She will never be satisfied with Wrinkly old men, so she can always go to Poppy's Zombie Army as Chief of the flinger's of fluorescent monkey dung and little midget Hello-Kitty litter boxes!

      Your father will have a cow when he hears about all the nuns you deflowered while you were a real boy loving chicken-hawk priest wearing Spandex pants.

      Just then, a real cheese smoker walked in and unwound Saran Wrap. “I hate this rancid french crapolla," he wrote on the inside of a russet potato. “I’d rather drive all the way to Gary, Indiana for shriveled Cheez-Whiz and a hot stuffed Tigger doll encased in Viagra and dipped in Cialis and chocolate covered vials of Colombian jumping frog spooge.

      Suddenly, an explosion erupted from my favorite crusted Canadian behemoth bottle opener. The fragrance was as intoxicating as A fat sweaty honkey. I then took a long stick and poked her in the elbow because dangerous things happen when you smile too much.
      Whereupon savage teenage panty sniffers with olfactory fatigue barely noticed the overpowering stench of Kimbie-eyed sweet potatoes wafting out of the northwest corner of the hot, old Jeep factory.

      Sigfried and Roy simultaneously passed gas into a small tiger statue while holding panties overhead and chanting: "Jeep smells like mud!" Suddenly, in came a birthday wish. For two thousand dollars she would shiver your timbers. Flaming timing belts have been known to produce similar reactions in pigs whenever birthday cakes play the banjo.

      Meanwhile, back at the chicken ranch in Washinton DC, Pelosi passed gas onto the O-face

      Comment


      • It all began on a warm sultry night in Key West. I couldn't believe what I saw, a Jeep pulling a wheelie across a mound of cheese-eating surrender monkeys. The stench of odor coming from the burnt cheesy monkey feces reminded my father in-law of a zombie eating sweet potatoes on a fat sassy, naked, old Rosie O'Donnell cut-out.

        Turned to Wifey and said: "That's what you get when you take one too many bottles of Viagra." Naturally, she replied: "but without them, you are worthless in the sack." After that comment, I grabbed my Jeep keys and proclaimed to them, "She will never be satisfied with Wrinkly old men, so she can always go to Poppy's Zombie Army as Chief of the flinger's of fluorescent monkey dung and little midget Hello-Kitty litter boxes!

        Your father will have a cow when he hears about all the nuns you deflowered while you were a real boy loving chicken-hawk priest wearing Spandex pants.

        Just then, a real cheese smoker walked in and unwound Saran Wrap.