Hope you can live with yourself, Josh Marshall
Since just about everyone but Kirkman has chimed in with testimonials to this site and, now, last-minute "hey, shoot!, we still ON?" posts, I'd just like to know... where do you think we'll go? What do you think will happen to us?
...And I'm putting these questions to you, Josh Marshall.
Do you think we'll just... fade away? Into the night? Forgotten, forsaken and dispossessed?
Admit it: You wanted to dump us because we were getting too close to your participation in the 9/11 hologram coverup - right? I knew it!
That's confirmantion of the old saw, in case we needed it: We can't trust anyone.
Oh... you've got your news and your cocktail parties and your orgies with fat hookers at the Watergate. The whole, messy Washington, DC, fleshpot spread before you. Corrupt, horney, rightwing. Wide stance... Ask yourself, though... What do your faithful, lapdoggie reader bloggers have?
I'll tell you. We've got letters to mom and "Cheaters" reruns. That's about it. And mom doesn't give a damn about our opinions on unemployment, about our endless sanctimony about fascist Tea Partiers.
And, besides, in my case, mom's deader than Rick Lazio.
You're unplugging our delusional insights, Mr. Marshall. I hope that makes you happy.
...Maybe as happy as successfully hushing up your extensive criminal record? The smuggling charges, perhaps? The pimping rap you took the fall for?
Youthful indiscretion, I suppose.
How about those long-lost, hidden-away illegitimate children with LaToya and Anna Nicole? Who's paying for their pacifiers and Developing World nannies? Donald Trump?
But I'm not going to turn into a pumpkin at midnight. Not me. Right now, I'm taking my mindless chatter and psycho diatribes over to thoroughly invisible Blogger.com until I can launch my own site. You can see it at AMERICAN CARRION, if you can contain your mocking laughter long enough!
I'm gonna keep my little balls rolling.
And maybe run you right outta Cyber Town!











