Well, the last time I saw her, her pipes were clean, her flag was down, and her ****** shields were new. Then you haven't seen her lately. I want you to look at this photograph from 1912. Here's a big ship, one that can't be sunk and here's Lester, a large man with warts. One drizzly day, immediately after a ***** riot in Fresno, the great granny of Donna Douglas "took up" (as the expression goes) with a Mexican called Pablo Moreno (Paul Brown). He was a handsome man with a large *****. Enter, Ken Smith, a ***** researcher from Ohio. It seemed inevitable that these two men should meet but they didn't. Shortly thereafter (or afterwards) the heathenistic ***** rioters sought redemption through Christ and the great granny of Donna Douglas was killed in a circus tent fire. Everything according to God's plan happened with laser-straight preciseness (or precision). Let that be a lesson to you.

I recalled many disturbingly stupid memories of yesterday as commies and pseudo-women surrounded my yacht, clawing and spewing and irritating my rash with allergens. I'll never grow peanuts for butter again since Jimmy Carter crapped out recently alone because his wife stopped breathing. She was a goodly woman, mysteriously endowed with luscious **** and a reliable lower bowel that made sailors crazy.