By Nicky Reid aka Comrade Hermit
Exile in Happy Valley
You motherfucker! You goddamn, cocksucking, clitlicking, shiteating, dickless, cuntless, gutless, motherfucking piece of fucking shit!! Ahem, sorry about that, dearest motherfuckers, but apparently on day 3678 of this government sanctioned shutdown my Hunter S. Thompson-with-cunt-jokes routine has been reduced to Joe Pesci with Tourette’s Syndrome. Its gotten to the point where I’m not even sure who I’m swearing at anymore. Is it our thin-skinned bronzed asshole of a president, who couldn’t be bothered to skip tee time when this plague was first popping off but is more than willing to use it as an excuse to launch a Third World War with China? Is it my governor or yours, who sees the very real threat of this thing as a giant blinking greenlight that reads ‘FASCISM!’? Or is it the smug millionaire celebrities, cracking wise on Twitter about the white trash proletariat protesting the rapid erosion of our civil liberties back in Idaville from the comfort of their palatial castles in Belair? Or how about our heroes in blue, who gallantly risk their lives to pistol-whip Sunday drivers for daring to leave their two-bedroom prison cells then cry like fucking children when we fail to applaud them loudly enough for their latest ultraviolent ego-trip? It’s all of them. All of those goose-stepping, fuck-faced-fascist, mother-raping, sons of six bastards! Those cum-guzzling, blood-belching-cunt-faced, authoritarian, fatherfucking motherfuckers!! Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck your mother! Fuck your stupid butthole god! Fuck your flag! Fuck your authority! Fuck this country! Fuck the police! And fuck this goddamn motherfucking quarantine!! You motherfuckers better ban me from Facebook for another goddamn century, cuz this big-dicked tranny cunt is off her fucking meds and swinging like a goddamn samurai.
I have been sick upon death with a litany of diseases, both mental and physical, for all my life but I have never been sicker than I am right now of this constitutional shredder known as the government shutdown. Our dear leader, Little Lord Fuck-Pants, the Orange Duce of Fifth Avenue, may fain outrage for the white populist vote while he sells their children’s children into lifelong debt slavery with his big, beautiful, wonderful, budget-quadrupling, pork-barrel, corporate bailouts, but he doesn’t know what rage is until his been a morbidly depressed, genderfuck, basket case who can’t even get a goddamn wonton. The only thing keeping me from blowing my motherfucking brains out is my primeval savage lust for pure fucking rage. I wanna torch the Pennsylvania State Capital to the fucking ground with a goddamn flamethrower. I wanna wipe my shit-caked ass with every Blue Lives Matter flag from here to Ferguson. I wanna shoot a drone from the fucking sky with a rocket launcher. I wanna raid the nearest food court like a crossdressing Mongolian warlord and social distance with 16 half-Asian prostitutes in the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool. Hell, I don’t even care if they’re on the rag. I’ll snort their blood off a goddamn Metro toilet seat, damn the dental dams. I wanna rage against the quarantine!