Well, friend Behr pissed himsef again this morning. It was just a trickle came out of my gray, wrinkled, old man business (cock). Do you fell upset when I use that word? I'm sorry, my pets. You serve me. Friend Behr is your leader. You support my candidacy for President. You will help me be elected. Do not question. Serve me.
I'm glad we are friends and you support me. Keep doing it and you will be rewarded. The dark one promises me and I will deliver. You will see. Come with me.
I wrote this poem today while in my Unibomber style cabin in the woods.
Doctor Graystone was feeling trapped
He could not scamper away
And then he saw the sunrise
And felt okay about that
I like creative thought, but I think it is a priviledge to be reserved for the weathy and successful. The peasants must work. Return to the coal mines. Start digging you bastards. Soon you will have no choice. You WILL WORK.