I'm Not Done With This Disgusting Pig Just Yet.

Hastert! Whoa! I started paying special attention to this big gross pug when he did th' photo op and got into an SUV around the corner. Remember that? What a worthless, hateful, stupid piece of shit this guy is. Look at him. Look at the size of his footprint. Takes up a lot of space, don't he? Man, he's like a human (?) environmental disaster. He's like a Fat Spill Off Th' Coast Of Alaska.

I look at this disgusting, hateful, lying, repulsive fat sac and all I see is soap, brothers and sisters. Bars and bars and bars. So Pure It Floats.

Fuck you, Dennis Hastert. There is a special place in my heart for you. There is a special little room in there where I put people like you and when somebody cuts me at a bar and I've got to pull out a little somethin' extra to defend myself I think of you and man, I could take pretty much any fat stupid biker and beat them to death with their own arm. And then eat their entrails.

All of you neocon lying freaks are the same. Look at you. None of you could get laid. That's what it is, man. I know th' thoughts I start having after a month or two of no action. Can you picture what happens to a fellow who can't get laid and years stretch into decades?

Look at th' headlines, baby. Look at the headlines. The legacy of th' unsexed fat neocon shit eaters is spread before you like body parts on burlap at a bazaar. Yes, indeed. On burlap.

Hastert. Wow. I haven't succeeded at all in saying what I think of this fat ball of vomit. But I tried, right? I tried. There is no language in m'lungs.