Outie for the Innie?

But two sides of the same spent coin. Just a couple blank casts of a compositionally misformed, headily tamped, slag laden, error riddled mould engraved in zero proof, backward dimensional anomalies; only to be reversely struck of a shameless die counterfeiting endlessly hammered by weigh of a Globalist currency struck by the now not so secret service of a fully bankrupted printing press underway of the new age digital wall-it . Yes, two bits of dull and tarnished one faced planchet value of a not so mercurial madness flaccid solidity just begging for our change.

Warmongers. So the demonic duo be. In perpetuity. Hand in hand with head in topsy-turvy sand in order to eviscerate any land. Defunct personalities, seeming a seething reflectional abyss, serving a grievous factional amiss. Recently, yours ‘word molester’ truly, has heard a few people referring to that shameful queen of the obscene, Nikki Haley, as something of a Lindsey Graham in high heels, due to her valourless vigour in kickstarting any international life terminating confrontation. To which I immediately thought to myself, “I thought Lindsey Graham was the Lindsey Graham in high heels!” Hmm, interesting thought. All of a sudden Watergate comes to mind. Well, Deep Throat anyways.

Well, possibly one might more easily entertain the idea of Nikki Haley being a Lindsey Graham in frilly, crotchless panties. Although, assuredly, old maid Lindsey probably has that one covered too, in however minutely fashionable details. Don’t ask don’t tell, though do insinuate. Golly me, such traumatizing conjuring has already guaranteed myself an undulating crossover when tonights log sawing competition attempts to crosscut the conscious bounds into freestyle synapse mode; so go on CR shall, lambasting those two of the flock, morally loose servants of death entrenched in promised book deals and numbered bank accounts.

So a eunuch and a prostitute walk into a bar. Scratch that, in a non genital crab motion. A eunuch prostitute and a prostitute walk into a bar, and the bartender says, “Your regular Lindsey, a Bud Lite in the loafers, and a shot of penicillin? – and for you Nikki, some two-tonic roots to appease your Teutonic routes, say, perhaps, ein Peppermint Schnapps and a double fist of Jägermeister? – Don’t forget, the Bill is on Klaus, so have at it!”

So those obscene queens Lindsey and Nikki, along with so many more, sit and drink it up amusingly, though, in all telling deep drowned reality, confusedly, in the way that the thoroughly inescapable Americanized, therefore propagandized and prostituted mind blinded by cultural indoctrination, while conjointly televisionally camouflaged, as well, minced impeccably into what imperial induced malice can only do in the compartmentalized leaky vessel drowning of the imbibed pudding, gorged so thoroughly, that, by the grotesquely amused, cognizant spectators mind, if such tomfoolery were indeed, macabrely, to become an olympic event, would have to have the podium greatly expanded and newly enumerated to a fourth grandstanding platform so as to allow an ever heightened hinging to the zero’s subterranean placing brought on by such a deserved cervical dangling.

And the winner goes to…..ding, ding, ding – a dead ringer. Liberty Belle. Send them off together, send them to the Gallis Pole!? Without doubt, old maid Lindsey has been up to such warmongering shenanigans for a longer duration of time, inclusive of his UKrainian sausage stuffing forays over to America’s mis-steppe of which their victor’s disease schizophrenia is strictly that of winning of profits in the Vanguard, BlackRock and associates slop-trough insensibilities feeding upon human sacrifices.

While in the same black and white contrast, cognitively light Nikki Haley seems as eager to please her Globalist masters as Joe ‘Poopy Pants’ Biden is to sniff prepubescent girl’s, and like Joe ‘Poopy Pants’ Biden, Nikki sure gives the ominous forewarning of being all too eager in signing and/or regurgitating anything that the true freaks behind the titanium curtain place in front of her beholden Globalist 101 teleprompter. Wickedness all around, without question.

In summary, for visualization purposes, if say, hypothetically, the treason squad were to catch up with, then subsequently and simultaneously doll out exacting cervical dangling consequence to Lindsey’s and Nikki’s olympic foray into serving Globalist masters, would it be concise to state that undoubtedly Lindsey would be admitted to Hell first due to the fact that he already had his shit packed?

Am not sure if the world can handle it, but I have a marvellous Mark Milley mishmash muck raker bouncing around between my ears. I dare someone to dare me to doo-doo do it.

CR