The Donkey Show Family Fun Hour
I remember the days when I was young.
The days seemed to last forever and I was a young Bastardo and the world was run by real men like El Presidente Bill Clinton. A man who can blow his own horn is a man who stands apart from many.
The economy was good and the senoritas truly understood how to appreciate good sexual harassment, unlike these closet lesbians of today.
My nipples tingle at the thought of wrestling Harvey Weinstein into submission; what a sexy woman he truly is. If I was in the cinema you wouldn’t hear me complain over sitting on the casting couch.
Now the world is run by spoiled orange hair grandpas who compliment their own daughters’ tits. Of course, even Satan himself has some good qualities.
It is a strange world, much like the pussy fart; it is a humorous mystery that can often make you lose your hardito.
But enough with the foreplay, gringos.
I remember the good old days when the donkeys ran free and the senoritas were nervous. The party was fueled by good cocaine and men were celebrated for being the natural bastards we truly are.
Before the new era of the reincarnated Hitler minus the fabulous fashion sense and before shitty bands like Nickelback were allowed to make the same shitty album over and over again.
They could truly ruin the best and most beautiful scene ever.
Two lesbianos kissing in the wild.
How I wish I was like Hemingway back on safari in the savage lands of Canada.
Oh well, it seems the good times have truly left us for good.
But Hope is always there.
She works mainly on Saturdays at the Hot Seat gentleman’s club.
You have not lived till you have had a lap dance to a Celine Dion song; it is a little slice of heaven that makes me want to cry every time.
Once is a little awkward but does not worry me, for everyone knows that strippers are only half human anyway, silly boys.
And if upon reading this you are insulted in any way…
Just remember this is a joke.
Much like politics and the evening news, it all went to hell a very long time ago.