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 Oooh, baby, you're too hot for Milo. How about you dump that chump and become the Venus de Tanzmetall instead? Seriously, I can’t be alone in this. I mean, I’m not crazy, I know they’re not actual women you can “do the deed with”, so to speak. But their breasts are always perfectly proportioned! And I just know that, if they weren’t made of hard plastic, they’d be just the right size to gently cup in my hand. And, of course, if they were real, they would love me. We meet our heroes, Lord Sir Joseph St. John MacJasper KGC, Captain RN of the HMS Unbelieveblydifficulttosinknoreally ( we don’t see the name till the boat pulls out later, it is written in a wide arc above the aft windows), and Midshipman Louis C. B. Smith Jonesington as they enter the aforementioned ship via a gang plank flanked by Marines. There have been a number of times this campaign season when a candidate said or did something retarded. But sometimes, they overlook the most basic facts and forge ahead triumphantly, like a naked explorer in the arctic with a plastic bag over his head. After years of watching you masturbate, Ceiling Cat is dead. Blood drips from the hole in the sky where that celestial feline once peeped its last Tom (Tom-cat? Get it? Peeping Tom? Peeping Tom-cat? Die in a fire). And who, you the audience might ask, killed him? None other than the President of Iran, who after a recent visit to the calm, quickly-democratizing nation-state of Iraq, had the kitty killed in retaliation for the recent slaying of Cliff Puppy by a US Marine. |
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