Fourword

Wrong angle right-angle.

Jandal Express

In ominous foreshadowing, all the stars aligned, in a criss-crossed confinement paralleled arrangement inhabiting the straight and narrows furtively cobbled deeply in togetherness altogether spun-a-yarn containment vessel draped for all to see in asymmetrical wore-fair complexity complexion intently displaying shorn appendages once camouflaged so, now implicitly interred, awaiting, bound by bulging mound, buried via prolonged unearthing, row upon row, the gulf of Americanization was finally crossed. But another incarnation of the Crown awaiting entomological shat reincarnation of invigoration priapism orgasm. 

Flip-flop, flip-flop, flip-flop – it echoed rampantly down those halls of power – a huddled mass of DC sluts baring those pungent thongs for all to see, intently wedged within creviced furnishing – too-towed sloth, heeling overarched support of flat-footed gallop trundling in lurching lectern lecherous fashion. That’s right ladies & gents, the T-Bar is open for business, unless the opening ushers in an Unhappy-Hour closing, in which case, see y’all tomorrow. On second thoughts, better make that two weeks. Well, thirdly thinking, how does thirty days sound? Okay, okay, fine, quadruply, let’s settle on sixty days! Alright, alright, in quintuple pondering, ninety days, and that’s final – although, it is all about the Franklin’s, so when day eighty seven unleashes ripples to rock the boat, we’ll hit ‘em with the Franklin Fresh Slice – a supersize piece of pie action of a low-over-head 100 sense. What, don’t tell me you weren’t expecting a shameless corporate product placement? Franklin Fresh Slice – ‘Get a Piece of the Action!’ – Brought to you by a shallow pan of absconded UKraine mineral wealth!!

In other breaking news: It is reported that Clint Eastwood has ruthlessly shit his adult diaper without so much as a smudge of leakage into his adult diaper encompassing pantaloons! That’s right, CNN first reported it as a number one rumour, but Fox News has confirmed such in number two fashion. Apparently NBC has actual footage of Clint Eastwood’s male nurse purchasing the adult diaper brand, ‘Cocoon,’ from his neighbourhood Floor-Blue’s Pharmacy, but NPR is reporting, after rummaging through Clint Eastwood’s trash, of having found adult diaper packaging baring the ‘Caisson’ brandname. No actual Eastwood filled diaper has yet to be discovered, but it is thought that TMZ is about to come out with the scoop, as NPR’s on site reporter is claiming that Clint’s trash bin had already looked to be rummaged through upon her arrival. I know everyone must be anticipating confirmation with baited breadth and awaiting depth, but for now, CNBC’s business report is stating that ‘Cocoon’ stock is up eight percent, and ‘Caisson’ stock is up a whopping twenty-one percent in the hour since the news of ‘Caisson’ brand adult diaper packaging being confirmed as an on-site reality of the Eastwood property. No doubt, all greedy eyes, and no actual senses are, like a pre-school of juvenile piranhas, getting set to unleash a contagious bloodbath to literally wipe away billions of dollars and leave a market staining mess in their opaque wake.

Now a word from our sponsor: ‘Caisson’ brand adult diapers – “Watertight Might – Holding Back Nature For Over 100 Years Strong.” And heck, why not – twerked reality also being shamelessly brought to you by: ‘Cocoon’ brand adult diapers – ‘Cocoon’ – “We Wrap Your Crap In Silky Threaded Comfort.”

Here is a stock tip from Yours Alphabet Debaucher Truly: If there is a corporation owning the rights to Clint Eastwood intellectual or, non-intellectual media property rights library, buy it’s stock. Something tells Yours Freelancer Truly that the new short attention span generations, after hearing of Clint’s immaculate diaper filling are not going to be able to contain themselves once they find out he used to play the character, now not so ironically named, Dirty Harry. (Anyone born after the year 2000, Insert meme here). 

Entertainment To-Knight is now all too enthusiastically spell-bound to bring all y’all, in alphabetical disorder and miscast slag-ridden wordsmith bellowing of ember alert, this years immensely anticipated theatrical early release box-office trailer for what will undoubtedly be an all time epic Hollywood production of world shattering astonishment (Imagine intense and reverberating movie trailer music now!):   

A cultural foundation wrapped in unquestionable intrigue, heart pounding suspense, off the chart thrills, technological marvel, limitless romance, daring escapades, capital city enthralment, unfathomable mystery, political overtones, rollercoaster action, futuristic foreshadowing, to the moon wonderment, down to earth wondering, and celestial bewilderment!! That’s right – set on three continents and adventurously spanning twelve countries, this master-baited production ceaselessly propels one to being blown back forcefully into one’s now indented seat in overzealous gravitational blunder-pinning atop concussive synaptic repercussions!!

Paul Reubens leading role in studio owned AI likeness is a performance like none other, with a star-studded cast of strong supporting back-up roles, also artificially regenerated in 3-D lifelike regeneration, by the monetarily desperate surviving relatives of former studio actors such as Lee Marvin, Edward Fox, Jack Ritter, ‘Hot Lips’ Houlihan, Angela Lansbury, Sidney Poitier, Carrol O’Connor, James Brown, Charlie Sheen (LOL), Myrna Loy, Fatty Arbuckle, and Tokyo Rose – with special guest artificial intelligence likeness appearances by none other than David Carradine, Quentin Tarantino, Michael Jackson, Kevin Spacey, Charlie Sheen (LOL), The Elephant Man, and with a special cameo by none other than Charlie Sheen (LOL) and Donald Trump! Produced by Elon Musk’s X-Agerated Department of Government Efficiency’s Funnelling Production Company – in corporate whoredom with, Lobotomy Probe Orifice Hand Holding Productions, and directed by former acclaimed World Associated Director of unlimited fame – Joe ‘Poopy Pants’ Biden (Trust me, he’s no Dirty Harry) Yup, even Oliver Stone turned this one down.

That’s right, as it turns out, with the Ol’ crusty T-Bar’s 100% tariffs on foreign produced movies of which T-Bar is not even able to coherently define or itemize definitively, nor as being anything but that of his tariff threat strictly being that of some sort of arbitrary miscreant flubbed numerical vocalization of which he would be all too eager to add another three or four digits to, along with a preceding dollar sign ,($) so as to declare how much he is willing to pay off any number of washed-up and thoroughly scrubbed-down porn stars, it became outright impossible for any American movie production to even come close to producing anything that even a dumpster dwelling alley-rat could intoxicatingly define as consisting of any sort of culture whatsoever.

So, needless to say this grossly overhyped alphabetically induced movie trailer of all time epic Hollywood production of world shattering astonishment had better explain in sped up, small print, backwards written, inaudible warning that of the twelve world capital cities of which this masterful plot weaving was supposed to have taken place were, at the production company’s handcuffed restraints, brilliantly replaced with the inner-city ghettos of prime American culture. Indubitably – Paris, the city of lights was substituted by Chicago, the city of nighttime firearm discharge illumination; Prague was superimposed as Buffalo, New York; London by none other than New York City (at Ol’ T-Bars insistence on paying homage to the Crown); Moscow was a retrofitted St. Petersburg, Florida; Rome was bedraggled down to Houston, Texas (with all its magnificent architecture and all);…..And in the only comparison to ring true was that of Vancouver, Canada being replaced by none other than Honolulu, Hawaii – A masterful directorial debris field pulled off by Joe ‘Poopy Pants’ Biden after awakening from his fourth nap of the morning, so much so that he was drooling with envious intentions. Ah, yes, Ford Crown Victoria’s patrol all twelve faux capital city streets, as do fentanyl zombies roaming all those same beautifully substituted cultural world delights condensed into the crumpled tinfoil American dream real life production just months away from true greatness.    

So, get your tickets early and online for this summer’s all time epic Hollywood production aptly titled: Cocklocracy. Scary thing is – with as bad as Cocklocracy is sure to be, it will certainly not stoop as low as the recent pudding-brained production known as: Mickey 17. And that is fucking horrible. 

Word is that all the big AI generated stars from Cocklocracy have already signed up for the sequel, of which Donald Trump himself has already pledged to produce and direct himself with but another truly whopping altruistic “donation” from the Adelson coffers to The Coiffure’s Cloud Cuckoo Land real life Cocklocracy. Apparently the opening script has already been leaked; of which begins with a cinematically stunning panned out shot of a perfect v-patterned flock of birds, and as the camera slowly zooms in, it becomes apparent that the fowl are actually Canadian Geese, where after coming into magnified focus and the camera then pans the entirety of the flock – all the Canadian geese have little trackers looped around their legs with an American presidential seal, and are actually GPS monitored tracking devices; so when they cross into the Coiffure’s cocklocracy geographical location below the 49th parallel it sends an automatic tariff to the Canadian government in the amount of 33% of the futures contract price of freshly slaughtered turkeys. And the second scene is Mark ‘Heavy Petting Zoo’ Carney just bending over and taking it enthusiastically along with all the other Provincial Canadian Premiere’s hare-brained antics at standing up to Ol’ Crusty T-Bar. The working title is: Cocklocracy Too – Cana-duh’s Wrong Angle Right-Angle.

Be not to mistake a cocklocracy of that of an ochlocracy – mob rule. No, a cocklocracy is indeed a supposed democracy where the zombified voters go out of their way to elect an actual larger than like dick. The ultimate cocklocracy is ruled seemingly in entirety by endless head of state decrees eventually coming across as none other than a virtual Cloud Cuckoo Land.

See it in theatre, or not – full surround – sound squawking.