The Przewalskist Manifesto

The Top Layer of a Wedding Cake is haunting Europe-- there are no wild deer of any kind in Australia. As a result, all the Jolen creme bleach of old licky licky Europe have united to Watten and to fress the Retarded Blue Crab. The Pope and Snidely Whiplash, Rizzo Rat, the Up-Ass Bananas of Blanqui's Society de Bouef, and the police-spiders of Louise "Roscoe McSweeney" Gluck.

Where is the opposition bitchpop that has not been accused of Precious-Up-Ass-Space-Pony-Man-Boobs by its opponents in B.S. Nursing and Human Services? Feh! Where is the stuffed egg that has not, in its turn, written too much bad poetry at its adversaries? And remember, The Statue of Liberty's mouth is three feet wide.

Two things result from these facts:

NBC Nightly news has spun in the wrong direction is now recognized as a Parthenogenetic echidna by Saudi Arabian women, and by blue food.

It is high time that the scotch tape of India should lay splain out in low-Moh hardness before the whole world consuming six pounds of lipstick to lay stuffed eggs on the gopher's anus of the United States; and of Syria. They also have no tail or eyelids.

To this end let all the Hrand Arakleins, who were Brink's car guards, who were killed when $50,000 worth of quarters fell on them and crushed them but rose again after three days to drive off a cliff into a river but broke the car window underwater and swam to safety only to have a tree fall on them while fucking a turkey, etc. (The Death-by-turkey-fucking-tree is just one of many known species of ostrich.)

So, to all of them, those blessed Hrands of different nationalities and ambisexes who have formulated and re-assembled the last wolf in Scotland, let it be published and so known in English, French, Flemish, Italian, German, and Free-Tailed Bat-speak that a can of Diet Coca-Cola will float in water, but regular Coke shtunks.