Wingnuts roasted on our little blog...Duct tape sticking across their lips...
OK can't resist.
First hit this link.
Then simply sing along using the following lyrics:
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OTBL bloggers on a DSL wire,
Joke boys failing to make a sound,
Mr. Peanut's puppets so very slow,
A non-presence we all know.
Everybody knows, what they shirk is work,
and they bore us with their fibbery
All see them as stain on the rim,
They float like a turn, stink like pee.
Socialist scum now monitor their ways,
Black helicopters chase them into caves,
Of course even dogs have there days,
So Sunday finds them under naves.
Beware of OTBL geeks with a gift,
All you kids up to six-six-six.
Although longer I could linger
Two fists, two hands,
To OTBL'ers I extend one middle finger.
2 comments:
Don't quit your day job there, Kowboy.
Yes, I rode right through the sunset into my old friend -- darkness. I realized that talking about "free markets" is one thing, but living free is the ultimate thing. Hence, me and my palimino are headed for darker and colder things. If that sounds nuts to you, it's because that is what we will live on.
We are heading to San Fransisco to sell our peotry and become dharma bums and panhandle out front of the City Lights bookstore.
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