Fourword

Out, out and away?

Multifaceted Greasy Foreshadowing

What an absolute piece of shit. Uncontained, running amok societally traversing, blindly a walking pace of disgrace that trodding. Ground on then ground in, treading softly upon sole disgracing encompassment, ridges raised, a flat out levelling of unnecessary indecent exposure. So it goes, the second nature trappings of a first rate piss-brained dribbler let loose owner-operator malfunctioning instruction manual labour union action disgracefully stricken from the humane record of history proven true by all but those greasy line-crossing scabs hellbent on  placement in egregious territorial geographical location totality of self-leaving self-labeled non-reflective actuality determining functioned existence: What absolute pieces of all out shit!

Now I’ve done gone and stepped in it. No, no, the above paragraph is not a cryptic lambasting of Donald J. Trump and assembly of corporate whore cabinetry passing themselves off as a useful construct of containment. Or is it? No, no, it’s not. How’s about Just-him Truedope and his conglomeration of panty-stained waste of atoms? Nope, I would just call them out for the pieces of shit that they are. Come to think of it, why does Cana-duh not change the name of Hudson Bay to Rita McNeil Daily Inlet? After all, Hudson Bay could imply the Hudson is that of Hudson Rock, and we certainly do not want any greasy, south of the border implications to appear on indoctrinative propaganda to appear in Canadian classrooms. Heaven knows, the Gulf of Mexico is nowhere near as vast as Hudson Rock’s posterior geographical location was.

It should be noted, that as soon as Yours Offended By The Alphabet Creator Truly typed Donald J. Trump and corporate whore namesakes in the above paragraph, my computer had an immediate cyber-attack that has been ongoing for ten minutes plus, attempting to stop me from writing anything else. Talk about insecure fucking cowards!. Surely anyone with hands as small and effeminate as Donald J. Trump surely has to be an insecure pansy who talks tough and womanizing in public but probably has a revolving gang of trannies peg him in private until the cows come home, while his cabinet forms the obligatory circle-jerk attempt to fill the vast Gulf of Americanization. Far and wide. Shallow beyond belief! USA! USA! USA! Fuck you hacker cowards offended by the alphabet: Picking on Yours Human Guinea Pig Truly, a former pothead with a grade eight education, a free thinking mind of his own, the guts to say what I want; and at one time the ability to whack-off in his own abode without creeps and perverts getting in on his act. Oh, how I miss those days – been solely privy to having my penis in my hand – pissing or otherwise; or the other supposed to be private acts of sleeping, eating, watching movies, contemplating my navel, tying my noose, cleaning my toilet, showering, brushing my teeth… Fuck you perverts too – fucking cowards – fucking criminals.

Anyways, Now I’ve done gone and stepped in it. What an absolute piece of shit. The salient point Yours Sick Of The Bullshit Truly was trying to get at before being so rudely interrupted by those hacker pansies clearly fearful of a former pothead with a grade eight education (thanks for the article filler you pathetic cowards) is that one is surely able to tell a lot about a person by the way they handle their dog’s shit in a public geographical location. Yeah, that is what Yours Mucsulo-Skeletal Afflicted Sufferer Truly was going on about so semi-cryptically in the word-salad first paragraph (read it another time or two and it makes sense) way up yonder before self-loathing poofter cyber-attackers launched the ol’ Americanized ‘Shock and Awe’ borrowed via the ‘Blitzkrieg’ absorption post World War Two gestapo osmosis transmogrification. That’s right, dog shit, this article was going to be about dog shit: and one has to rightly infer that when the cyber-attack against my person for typing Donald J. Trump and his corporate whores occurred, the attackers had strictly affirmed the dog shit themed article clearly fit for public consumption, as it seems as if extreme power was attempting to prevent that piece of shit and Donald J. Trump from being relayed in the same locale. Epic fail on corporate whore hacker methodology. Hmm, what could power have to fear except for the truth? What absolute pieces of all out shit! Yeah, a grade eight education and a mind of his own, and overt power crumbled like a wet noodle bitch unable to contain themselves. One must suppose that in ‘A Great America” the words piece of shit will be outlawed, but Stalinesque Trump idols and his corporate whore contingency will line the streets, and Trump cult of personality billboards adorn the architecture? Sig Sauer Hail The Conundrum in Chief!

Anyways. What an absolute piece of shit. Yours Greasy Shoe Sole Truly just happened to have stepped in an ignorant owner-operator doggy-doo landmine not too far back while at work one morning (pretty sure it was the Yellow Lab of regular appearance). Damn near brand new shoes at that. Though I am not quite sure if stepping in dog shit is nearly as bad as setting foot in a Donald J. Trump rally!? Well, actually, I would be caught dead in a dog shit covered shoe; possibly at the end of a rope. Or would that be ‘The’ rope? Yeah, you criminal, home peering perverts know what I’m talking about. Anyways, back to that dog shit. No, no, I implicitly stated that Donald J. Trump was not a piece of shit. Have you not been listening? This article was supposed to be regarding how one can judge someone else about how they deal with their dog’s shit in a public locale. But those piddly-minded hackers semi-changed the intended storyline. Thanks you ignorant fucks, you added a few hundred extra words to my writing.

Let me unleash it and just state that Yours 33 Acres Drinker Truly traverses a heavy dog shit laying area on a workly basis. Yup, I knows some psychological human-dog shit behavioural secrets of the neighbourhood from having sat unsuspecting in my car on dark mornings awaiting that internal punch-clock beginnings. Though some owner-operator identifications elude me, the evidence remains the same in varying degrees of owner-operator defunctness – dog shit left where it should not be; even hanging around in some occasions. Yup, left hanging – like a Donald J. Trump follower awaiting to ‘Make America Great Again.’

First off, you have the straight up ‘”I don’t give a shit” personalities. There was this one lady who would pull up across the road in her vehicle and let her two big German Shepherd’s out to take a dump on the city frontage property. Needless to say, she made zero attempt to clean up after her dogs. You could read it in her face, a haggardly, given up on life kind of face, she exuded deviancy; seemingly someone desperate for the companionship of dogs but who went out of the comfort of home to have her dogs shit on some “neutral” geographical location in order for her to not even have to deal with it in her own front or backyard. Now there is a dedication to ignorance. The kind of person who probably scouted out nice plush city frontage on her daily meanderings so as to not be a repeat offender for too long in the same area. Let’s just say she hit my area hard for a fertilizing while, and then, unlike her dogs’ shit, she was gone. Perhaps to ‘Make America Great Again?’ Ah, she probably moved back to Ontario. Oh, yes, the suspected Yellow Lab of my dog shit to shoe acquaintance appears to be the ‘”I don’t give a shit” personality, but Yours Skulking In The Shadows Truly” has yet to come up with any semi-hard evidence. We shall call them the shitty-spectres.

Then you have the “leaving my dog’s shit on somebody else’s property is wrong but I am not going to pick it up” personality. I have seen the technique. devious and clever rolled into an act of one should probably just have used a plastic bag and picked it up. Yes, the ol’ fling it into the bushes with one’s shoe technique. Oh, it is real, witnessed on many occasions. Leave it for the landscapers by another name. Does one clean one’s shoe upon arrival home after such an outing? Does one live in a shoes off household? Does the residual shit from the front of the one flinging shoe transfer to the back of the other shoe when they hold the heel of the alternate shoe with the toe of the shitty toe in order to remove said shit flinging shoes? Do they fling with the same shoe always, or mix it up? Mysteries of the universe only the semi-shit clearer can possibly answer. When Donald J. Trump is finally relieved of his term, will he be flung into the now “Great American Bushes?”

Let’s give a warm handed welcome to the personality, well, perhaps aptly named, number three, due to their willingness to take the next necessary sequence after their furry friends call of nature. Personality number three: the “It is wrong to leave my dog’s poop on private or city property, so I will pick it up, but damn me if I’m going to carry that doggy-bag all the way home with me.” The classic pick it up because somebody may be watching technique, but then sneakily throw it into the bushes once one’s conscience has been cleared for actually picking it up. Or, in some odd show of self-territory marking – tie said filled dog poop bag to the construction fence of the property under development up the road. Well, maybe they thought it was a Donald J. Trump property development and that is their act of protest? Could be, it is a big property. Though with all the trees they removed, it will certainly never “Be Great Again.”

And there you have it you rapscallion alphabet scramble lovers: Human nature and the dog shit kismet that Donald J. Trump corporate whore fanatics with mega hacking skills wanted to so enthusiastically envelop themselves into full force upon the grade eight educated nobody with a readership that more than likely deserves to be wrapped in straight jackets, forcedly given mind-calming medications, and more than likely all be enthusiastically allowed to own four legged, furry, barking friends, for the fact that they understand that shit deservedly needs to be put in its rightful place. Question is, is that rightful place The Oval Office?

Thanks again you pathetic fucking coward hackers offended by the meagre alphabet. Truly a concentration of abject absentminded shit eating nonsense. Fucking cowards.