Leftist Nutly News - SPACE ALIENS HIDE MY DRUGS!!!

[Linda Reed--PCC West Campus CSC]

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*..." ]