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Archive for "Jul 28 2007"

If You Wanna Play “Yankee Raging”…

well then, come to The Darth Boss George Brigade

Back to Top | Comments Off on If You Wanna Play “Yankee Raging”…

Put The SackClothed Jihadis in Coach

… they admit they want nothing to do with the rest of us? Make them ride “economy”….

I SAID THAT! I know Euroniggers that will repeat it! Have you ever even dealt with the fucking Serbian assholes who think Milosevic was doing the right thing wiping out people? Have you ever talked to a Euro, standing safe here in the States, who tells you we are doing everything wrong?

Di you beat that fucker into the ground?

Obvious answer: “Why NO! We Thought Billery dealt with that bother… now let’s helicopter to the Hamptons!”

DEATH. all you asshats are one step above DEATH.


[TC turns off his “DON’T MAKE ME” auto-response thingie]

Arab princesses kicked off British Airways plane to jeers and whistles after refusing to sit next to male strangers | the Daily Mail

(TC’s Note: princess equals “Teddy Kennedy’s second dog-ugly niece”)

And they are probably friends….

The princesses, wearing traditional Arab dress, were returning from a day’s shopping in Milan. They arrived at the city’s Linate airport and boarded Heathrow-bound flight BA 563, which was due to take off at 4pm on Thursday.

Okay, someone, please, tell me: how many “Sharia Approved!” shops are there in Milan?

After passengers had fastened their seat-belts and the plane had taxied on to the runway, two male passengers in the entourage got up to protest about where the women were sitting.

Dude? It’s called a “seating chart.” You let your cows get out of the barn, let the farmhands put them in their stalls… and then you scream? Fuck you! (“Who has the goddamn Taser?”).

Cabin crew tried to rearrange the seats but passengers travelling together refused to give up their allotted places.

“Fuck off and die. You bought the ticket, take the ride.”

We Retired the Beasts Today

Any regular reader (yeah, you three mooks) knows whose I’m talkingz aboutz. They have a great new crib; an owner who gets the two crazed SOBs, and knows I’ll ruin his reality if he screws with TC’s Mossberg Mutts.

And he owns a junkyard scrap auto recovery facility. Toyland!
“Can I chewz the metal?”

Everybody’s happy… except Bootz. Bootz does not understand why all these friggin’ BIRDS suddenly think his backyard is THEIR backyard.

(He never understood the corpse pile the Beasts left behind when Wife™ turned her back after filling the bird feeders and dumb winged rats tried eating the spillage that landed on the lawn…. Bootz thought they were toys.)

God Bless Ya, “You” and “You.” You were both tools, but dammit, you were better than any Sears ever dealed.

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