Journos ahoy! Let’s push fecal cable down the neck tubes of injustice!
The following post was originally published by When Falls the Coliseum‘s West Coast Bureau in Vancouver, Wash. It’s reprinted here with the author‘s consent. All rights reserved. TM ©
I Desire to Be Great, New Leftist Journalist!
I desire to become leftist journalist. I want to unravel the flap blanket of KKKorporate AmeriKKKa — the quilt of its malfeasance. I am anxious to sniff out corruption in the lower drawers of elitism.
My heroes are the seniors at Media Mattress for America and their conductor, Eric Boehlert. I also place heavy lyubyashch on journalist Max Blumenthal, an anti-racist who comes from the Clinton Tree of Life. Moreover, I have deep respect for the Southern Poverty of Laws Center and much lyubyashch for That Brad Blog, written by the guy Brad.
These journos fill the brevities of my gymnastics with enjoyment. It’s as though the face of God fondled my tendrils with love and made me coo. (Can you hear that I did coo with enjoyment?)
I am ready to solve any designation in my new role of lefty journalist. I am ready to have a talk: truth to force.
I will untie my bowels on right wings. My virtue is a symphony. Their repugnance, sin. My goodwill is a frothy shake. Their malevolence, diseased pitstsa.
(Pictured below: the Media Masters of America Port of Rectitude in Washington D.C.)
The overall knowledge of Republican tea bags is racism. Scum. Some well-known racists include Axl Rose, George Bush, Dick Cheney and Mel Gibson. Mel Gibson, the hater of Jewish life, is too a misogynist, once calling a female police authority “sugar tits.”
I place fecal cable down these Nazis’ throats.
Stand on this muscular table of equality with me, and together let’s doodle Eric Boehlert’s righteous tendrils. (His countenance is flowery.)
Leftism must be the way to peace. Each person in life must be members of the left party. Must be ennobled.
My purpose is to help the blog of Brad and Maximum Blumenthal in reaching this utopia. As rays from the sun, we will pulsate and foment the particle of friendship in the dialogue box of life.
Absence of racism!
My journalistic forces are on the display. Conservatives observe! This troubleshooter comes to investigate. To research hate crimes.
Your sides had best be filling with the fear. There will be much anxiety when I uncover your racism.
Racism = worse than rape. More terrible than homicide, anything. Fake pimp costumes cause strife, so much pain.
I rip asunder totalitarians’ overcoat. I topple and discharge their futile existence, banishing it to a nethervoid far poorer than Siberia.
Evil doers, I am here — with the Max Blumenthal and Media Mattress — to break your muzzle. I will shock your face, drink coffee and eat rolls on your grave.
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lol
They’re a bit over the top, aren’t they?
It’s even more humorous when they say stuff like “These ignorant, racist TEA Party people are a bunch of bigots!”
Huh? =P
You have a bright future!
YES!!! Speak truth to power!
@V-Dawg
Hey homegirl, welcome to the Coliseum. My little corner of hell here in the comments section is called “Sprayed Remains,” and occasionally — when frequent commenter Parsifal shows up — “Rimjobs in the Rubble.”
Please say “hi” to Rod Blagojevich when you get a chance.
Best regards,
MC
Frequent commenter Parsifal has not heard such a drayload of horseapples since the last time the other Mike drooled over his Big Chief tablet and posted his unhinged ramblings in block letters, the better for conservatives to try to puzzle out.
Wannabe leftist journalist had best leave off untying his bowels and solving any designations and instead start pulling of the head from the nether regions. Otherwise he will never make it to the big times of the journalism like Borat.
@ Parsifal
I try to structure my writing to make quoting easy for people who are commenting.
What does your writing style look like?
@Parsifal
Credit where credit is due, P. That was fricking awesome!
I am too masculine to type “LOL,” but I may have to make an exception in this case. Oh what the hell — LOL! Because that’s what I’m doing!
Parsifal brings out the soft side of me, the part that enjoys the silky comfort of vole-haired cycling shorts.
DRAYLOAD — I plan on using that word until someone pries it from my cold dead hands. Combined with the horseapples and the Big Chief tablet…epic Parsifal. Humorous and educational yet he still gets in a dose of venom (targeted at BOTH Mikes no less!)
I’ll be telling my grandkids about this zinger…
One quibble, though: my fascination with broken English and the Russian people predated Borat’s shtick by many, many years. (I’ve always held the comedy stylings of Yakov Smirnov in high regard, and I married Russian before Borat blew up on the big screen.) So, yeah, to paraphrase Ice-T in his Twitter spat with Aimee Mann the other day, Borat can go eat a hot bowl of dicks.
Other than that, Parsifal, you brought your goddamn “A” game, homeslice.
Slightly related, I saw this laying around at a friend’s house the other day:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B000001G53/?tag=wfthecoliseum-20
It goes without saying that I got an instant chubby.
@ Mr. Cade
He’s simply prejudiced against people named Mike.
Yet neither of you caught (and neither did I, till after I hit “submit comment”) that I committed the mixing of the metaphors with “drayload of horseapples” and “drooling over his Big Chief tablet.” If I did not, at the very least I came damn close.
I suppose a hot bowl of dicks is less repulsive than a bowl of hot dicks. Or cold ones. Still, to each his own, that’s America, long may she wave.