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THE ULTIMATE WEAPON

The ULTIMATE WEAPON:

  • an army of cloned McPoyles …
  • the McPoyle army exhales Novichok from Putin’s farm
  • the McPoyle army poops polonium from Putin’s farm
  • each McPoyle has written a memoir about being a “Hillbilly” …
  • flying paragliders, “Fireman Died” printed on the wing …
  • paragliders capable of landing on SLOPED ROOFS …
  • with cameras that take pictures of magical bullets
  • infected with COVID
  • with armor made from US passports
  • firing a gun that shoots box cutters
  • carrying “barrel bombs” filled with magical 9/11 aviation fuel
  • fully vaccinated
  • upon victory, all the paragliding McPoyles coalesce into a PUNK GROUP SHOT of the IWO JIMA flag raising …

You can accept the core narrative of 7/13/24 and the penny dreadful in Pennsylvania. But you have to also accept the consequences of believing this bullshit. That the US government is so broken that a McPoyle was critical in a CIA plot. Or, worse, that any random McPoyle could do this. In either case, it means collapse.

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THE ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION … of Blump …

Nothing about yesterday adds up – even if you think part of the prank was having a bullet whizz by Trump’s head …

Me? – I simply don’t trust the sources of information that would allow me to judge.

As a Sovietologist? – I am simply asking THIS QUESTION

WHY ARE THEY SHOWING ME THIS?

(that’s the question)

Here’s my NICEST limited hangout TAKE from yesterday’s Penny Dreadful nonsense:

We are winning the WAR against the MACHINES …

Link: https://nypost.com/2024/07/13/us-news/gunman-behind-attempted-assassination-on-trump-shot-and-killed-by-secret-service-sources/

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THE CONFESSION of DAN SULLIVAN …

If they ask WHY I DID IT?

… tell’em it was a SNICKERS BAR …

Fun fact about me: I’ve BEEN to PENNSYLVANIA … (it ain’t no picnic …)

I was working on my spider egg farm when a couple ladies, dressed in gray flannel, came up to my camper to talk about SEA-FLOW.

“We were wondering if WE could benefit from spider egg nutrients?”, the blonde said, as she massaged her boovula through her classy skirt. She had a case, what looked like a rifle case, and inside was a PLOTON GUN that fired WHALE JIZZ at 34% the speed of 12 million flamingoes … this was getting interesting.

“We will let you rub squirrel oil on our breasts as we ungunjoolate our boovulas, with only underwear on, and you can do a bunch of cocaine … BUT … you need to do this thing …”

And we talked about the THING: schedules and linkups and meetings and midnight phone calls over pay phones … burners and churners … it was LIT. We put on Golden Earring’s Twilight Zone, and that’s when the brunette with the really BIG JUGS unleased them and the coke they had … and then it got crazy …