Leftist Nutly News - SPACE ALIENS HIDE M DRUGS!!! __________________________________________________ The Royal Canadian Mounted Police have a major, major problem on their hands. They finally got their man, and now have absofuckinglutely no idea what to do with HimOrHer. Well...*two* major problems, actually. They've started believing their own press--a deadly step which leads down a long, torturous path of, in this case, mutually assured nuclear individual and group self-destruction. Uuhhh...make that 'two-and-a-half' major problems. (I forgot to 'carry the two,' realized that things didn't quite add up in the reader's mind, and realized that there is a natural-born corollary to the mathematically logical theorem I have proposed above, which I shall henceforth erudite to you.) [EditBore's (Left) Nut: The AuthWhore, ALegendInHisOwnSlime as a result of his earthly eruditions and epistles on everything under the sun (not to mention the son) as a result of his rather questionable contributions to the Bienfait Nutly News and The True Story of the InterNet manuscripts, also happens to be, by an amazing stroke of coincidence noted by Stan SequinWearer recently, a MathematicalLegendInHisOwnMind as the result of imagining that she is a respected member of an internationally recognized elit/e/ist group of renowned mathematical military genius members of a ThreeNumberedAgencyToBeDividedLater which is uncommonly known as the CypherPunks Distributed Nuts. In all modesty (since I am writing this myself, only as if in the third person--an old writer's trick...), the Arthur is indeed one of the formost authorities of our era on the 'New Age Math,' which is an Einsteinian Fusion of LogicAndReason with a BeerSteinIan QuantumLeap beyond any semblance of normal propriety and/or common-sense, in which one's traditional mathematical results on the BlackBoard are combined with a psychic reading of the results of mixing last night's pizza with a morning half-finished-stale-beer-with-a-butt-in-it, now residing in the WhitePorcelainBowl, in order to be able to offer firm proof to the President's Commission On Propping Up A Decaying American Educational System that the FoolsOn TheHill can safely legislate the value of Pi to be 3.0, in order to avoid discrimination against the Mathematically Challenged, without adversely affecting <everybody put your hand over your heart, and start singing, "God Bless America"> "NATIONAL SECURIT" <flags fly, drums roll, citizens being prodded in the back with bayonettes cheer>, since all circles, save one, can be forced back into the shape that the Judo/ Christian God of Moses, Abraham, and Lot's wife, had intended for them, by a conscientiously applied plan of good oral hygene and the abandonment of any further pretense of paying the slightest bit of attention to the HumanRightsWhichBelong ToEveryIndividualOnTheFaceOfTheEarthAsANaturalBirthrightAnd NotAsAResultOfBeingAllegedlyBESTOWEDUPONTHEMByWordsWritten OnAPieceOfParchment. The Author, in HisOrHer latest work, "What Value of Pie Does A 500 Pound Gorilla Get For Breakfast?"--free to the first three million subscribers to this weekend's InterNet Pay Per View MultiMedia Extravaganza, where HeOrShe masturbates, for the first time, at the age of 93, for a virtually live audience of sicko's and perverts--explains that many of the underprivileged youth of today have pawned their calculators to buy crack-pipes, and their only education in mathematical sciences has come from their attorney's attempts to explain 'five to ten' to them.] Like I was saying, before I was so *rudely* interrupted... The second half of the second problem is that, not only are the RCMP in mortal danger of believing their own press, but they also face the even more mortal danger (A coward dies a thousand deaths--but more on *that* later...) of the reverse parallax corollary of their ArchieEnemy, the Bienfait Nutly Noose, being found believable, despite the OneManFullCourtPress's constant claims of conniving, conspiratorial lunacy fed by a wide variety of widely recognized atmospheric brainwave disturbances which are caused by such things as solar flare-ups, moon phases, and astroids approaching the earth with space ships hiding behind them (so it was a comet...so sue me!), resulting in HeOrShe having to fill in the parts of the MessagesFromMars that were not entirely legible due to the Voices screaming inside HisOrHer head. In short, the poor dumb bastards who bought into the Dudley DoRight Mythology (TM), only to find themselves becoming trained animals in a MusicalRide that embodied one Horse'sAss sitting atop another one and going in circles where the Music had no Magic... Well, let's just say that, somewhere deep inside, the poor buggers recognize that, no matter how many of them there are, or how many guns they acquire (while hiding the citizen's guns under a Rock), being trained to obey, instead of think, may prove to be their ultimate undoing. What I am getting at, here, is that there is undoubtedly not a single member of the RoyalHorseHumpers who has crossed my path in the last half-decade who has not taken one look at me and instinctively realized that I needed to be put down like a filthy dog, despite the admonishons of their superiors that the all-important Image (TM) must be maintained, for appearances sake. Now...it is too late. A member of a Canadian mainstream community cult known as the Estevanites, Brad Parker (no relation to himself), once replied, upon being asked his name by a member the Royal HorseHumpers, "Fuck ou! My name is Fuck ou!" Being, at the time, your AverageCanadianWhiteBoyPussy, it took me years to realize that, far from being a beligerant, ignorant fool, too stupid to forsee the consequences of his actions, Brad had astutely assessed the situation which he found himself in, and realized that being taken to jail, instead of being severly beaten and left lying in a back alley, was the superior option only when one did not have a friend who had promised to meet him at home with a case of beer after the bars closed. He made the right choice... {Let's have a big, big round of applause for broken, bleeding Brad, an inspiration to *serious* drinkers everywhere, who are not only in it for the pissing away of their money and the lack of glory (or even respect, for that matter).} Well, to make a long story even incredibly longer, the LittleFucker that the RCMP, Canadian Customs and Immigration and the Canadian Justice System threatened to ButtHole (TM) at the tender age of five ("If it threatens the life of a single child..."), finally wised-up, and became <trumpets blare, Royal Canadian Mounties bend over and prepare to bleed> the BigFuckou! {Change the name on my warrants, boys and girls, because I have my Johnson so far up your butts that I'm going to be able to tell you *how* I fucked you and *why* I fucked you, and there's not a Dogammed thing you can do about it.} Details? ou want *details*? Gee, gang, I'm a little thirsty, and I think I'll take a break, have a couple of beers and relax. Having had the Government's Richard up my butt for a half-century, I don't think there's any big rush for me to get my nut, now that it's *my* turn... [ Important Announcement For Law Enforcement Agencies: "James Bell polls for *you*..." ]