But what about the rest of us? Is it wrong for me to have a few superfluous ******* removed? Is it self-delusional to want 3 inches cut from my "monkey arms"?

SLAY THE MONARCH & THE PROGRAM whilst ***** smokes
shadows upon walls indebting ***** to plucky seven vinegar strokes
I see no point projecting unlaid, lay-about chicks from routine coax
of Kabuki theater flim-flamming quackery that's a penny-ante hoax
wrecked banjaxed on grimy floors sudsed-in crap in which it soaks
I'll never see Cleveland alive as Mother is making it with some fly
whose stolen Detroit dives to hell under ***** bucks who are high
on fed cheese that is curdled & matured on the Chinese ****** lie
broadcasted across seas placid by radio hoo-hoo below half-life sky
tenting fortified wines blended with hops, barley and mildewed rye
in bath tubs devoid of naked wenches morally-wonked and gun-shy
working the angles on de-lousing Camden: old New Jersey's pig sty
because the sight of immorally-uncivil plans blind the Lutheran eye
Subhan Allah, David & Goliath, Samson & Delilah must wilt & die
as cities ***** & Gomorrah substituted fruit cake for pumpkin pie
legions of sodomites patrolled all alleyways as curfews didn't apply
when crusaders knighted moralistes Chrétiens were in short supply
& negroids unarmed had no choice in whitey nations but to comply
'cause guns over butter win the body-count, nobody alive can deny,
while prisoners without tongues are so stuck-up, they will not reply
till they overcome their dispositions as amputees tongue-tied & shy
about swift kicks to those Chaz Bono regions that cause men to cry
in an ionospheric register that shouldn't emanate from a normal dye
except in incorporated Amìr̃kà where each prison fry cook must fry
or suffer the fate that ruined commanding lieutenant William Bligh
whose sympathy was such that he'd have done better not to even try
tasteless breadfruit diplomacy upon a sweaty-palmed Christian guy
as it was a tipsy, get-go endeavor like herding cats & feeding slaves
or burying a whacked **** in any of Idaho's tourist-attracting caves
opposite a funky monument to governor Butch Otter making waves
without his buck teeth, quaffing ****** from barrels lacking staves
to enshrine an ape-scraped pate or picnicker's litany of close shaves
from the living, dying by demi-godlike, semi-doctors' clots & raves
in the bowels of the A.M.A. & the C.D.C. for Luciferian conclaves
while suppressing experiences of saving at Equibank in olden days
before gay Pittsburgh was inundated with homosexual lesbian gays
who imbibed ****-soaked chicory quenchers on pap-smeared trays

N.W.O.-owned corporations promote the freshest of youthful faces
having Hillary F. Clinton lesbian relations in crowded public places
Moral citizens must subdue these shrub-scouts with military maces
then bind them together with cheap lamp cord, twine & shoe laces,
before scrubbing the scene clean to obliterate all ****-diving traces
from mobs bleeding the white-funded black & sallow yellow races,
they take up  phony causes in nine of ten clinically-disproven cases
running Manchurian patsies & *** kittens through menticidal paces

Many things. Gynecology isn't just for dentists who like women. It's for men who enjoy big-game fishing and bowling-pin setting. It's for ex-lesbians with bullet scars on their butts.

I felt older than dynamite yet younger than fire crackers as you rubbed my thighs with silicone puddy. It was a smooth day, abounding in spittle, muco-pus & phlegm. My mother bought a donkey named Clem. He used to ride tourists to the bottom of the Grand Canyon when he was feeling well: ******* freaky chicks in purple leotards. Why? Who can tell?

Hello! I am Nancy. I have large fish in my brain that eat a lot of my
brain. I get paid every 27 years & so I'm short on money today after
I gambled 8 million dollars and lost but tomorrow is a **** day for
nudies, freaks, weirdos, deviants & homosexual perverts. Let's give
each other back problems. Let's roll with the punches in swamps of
total dissatisfaction as we bathe each other in the big glow of Jesus.

2 lesbians who didn't know the meaning of "Stop it because it's against the law!" stumbled down the dusty road hand-in-hand to meet Jesus because they were dead tired. "There He is!" Martha exclaimed. "I don't see Him!" Jan responded. Tragically later, Jan's baby (conceived by secret lesbian impregnation methods) would grow up to look more like Hillary Clinton than was normal for a child who wasn't exposed to major radioactive impurities. "I'm tired and my lesbian parts are killing me," Martha stated like she was the queen of forever. "Soon we'll be at Motel 6 enjoying the treasures of our lifestyle," Jan whispered while her chafed thighs bled spottily like 6 employees of Dairy Queen in a car wreck.

"But why are you crying?" The dentist asked Tammy. "Because, you filthy son-of-a *****, the laughing-gas you gave me is fake!" She exclaimed loud enough to make another dentist fall off the toilet with a loud crash. "Jesus God!" The hygienist screamed because she was religious: "Another dentist has fallen off the toilet again!"

Here's the ticket for my Tour D vacation cruise to Europe. Hey, you've been bumped up to Tour E. Does Tour E include a room *****? Of course. Look. What? It says Maury Povich. I know. The staff always does that. It should say Tour E *** ***** but they think it's funny to put Maury Povich. Oh, I get it.

THE KIDNEY FINANCE STORY - When Kitty Gomez was young her parents divorced, each moving to another country far away. Kitty and her brother Hector were placed in an orphanage. 1 day, as Kitty was swimming in the Missouri River with 3 friends, there was a huge explosion at the cottage cheese factory (along the river) that spewed cottage cheese for thousands of feet in all directions. Kitty, though frightened and covered in cottage cheese, was unhurt. After washing off the cottage cheese, she kicked back to enjoy an ice-cold Iron City beer. "Hey!" Hector yelled from the bathroom. "Save a cold one for me!"

COULD IT BE A KELTIC RELIC FROM AN ANCIENT PEA-GREEN SEA? It was in queen Lizzie's cellar for 500 years before it disappeared. WHAT WAS IT? It weighed 9,000 tons and couldn't even be lifted by 20,000 godless Egyptians. It was a gift from Elohim for modern corporators & syndicators who butchered crocodilians & alligators. It stumped the choppers and chopped the stumpers. It came with fenders and chromium bumpers. It made the king sad and fair maidens service men who were eternally bad. It was everything, yet nothing at all as it grew less popular than Sears in Sarasota Mall. WHAT WAS IT ANYWAY, this thing that made gay men pay? Who can say?

Paul Hugo Little (1915–1987) was an American pulp fiction writer and author of the historical novels forming the Windhaven series and The Hawk and the Dove series under the pen names Marie de Jourlet and Leigh Franklin James respectively. He was the author of 700 historical fiction, erotica and romance novels mostly published under pseudonyms.[1] He also published a few books under his own name including Chessworks (a book on chess theory) and The Condominium Trap (a literary novel).[2]

Kenan Heise of the Chicago Tribune says "The Guinness Book of World Records lists a South African woman, Kathleen Lindsay, as the most prolific writer with 904 novels. Mr. Little believed he was second, averaging a novel every week and a half since 1963."[1]
Little died in 1987 at the age of 72.[1]

Wherever I goes this is about the length of Maltese noses. If I hated
you more along the surf-tide of a Pacific-coast fizz you'd chalk it up
to Biblic points revealing an Occidentalized Lost-Sea-Scroll gnosis.