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Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Me and the Poet Down at the Confederate Memorial

That San Francisco hippy poet who pretends to be a proud Confederate-American sent me another one of those poems of his that don't rhyme:
Date: Mon, 27 Dec 2010 05:21:50 -0800 (PST)
From: "George William \(Bill\) Newport"
Subject: burn a confederate flag
To: "Gen. JC Christian, patriot"

You need to quit running your bullshit generator wide ass open,
and quit shoveling pig shit into it,
I am not pretending to be a Confederate man you worthless piece of shit,
I am a Confederate man,
totally unlike you,
the bunch of lying shit you made up shows what a totally ignorant psycho you are,
you retard,
you are not at all hard to fool,
I will be perfectly happy to drive out there,
give me a time and a place,
you pool of shit-scum,
quit trying to align yourself with our valiant Confederacy to make your elephant dick sucking ass look better,
tye-dyed is spelled tie-dyed,
try spell-check dumb-fuck,
there is nothing at all intelligent about your CIB,
you are not heterosexual you are homosexual,
I will be perfectly happy to shove your righteous rogering up your ass sideways and pull it out your nose
Here's my response.

Dear Mr. Newport,

You're not fooling anyone. My associates at the Confederate Intelligence Bureau (CIB) analyzed your poetry and concluded that it was written by a leftislamunistofascist hippy from San Francisco (or possibly even Berkeley). I planted the "tye-dyed" part in my e-mail as a trap to trip you up. It's the kind of spelling correction a San Francisco hippy wouldn't pass up, and you didn't.

I've taken your case to my superiors at the CIB and to certain anonymous potential justices of CSA Constitutional Court. They've ordered you to be sanctioned with extreme prejudice for impersonating an honored son of our dear Confederacy. In everyday terms, that means we're going to whoop your ass, and I've been honored with the contract.

You are hereby ordered to appear at the Confederate Memorial at the Caroll County Courthouse in Carollton, Misssissippi at 12:00 p.m. on the First day of January in the Year of Our Lord, 2011.

At that time and place I shall begin executing your sentence by pulling down your pants and taunting you. No, better yet, I will pull down my pants and taunt you. Then, I'll paint my ass a Soviet shade of red before manipulating my butt cheeks in a way that makes them appear to be delivering off-colored jokes about sailors. I'll probably also make you watch me pleasure myself much in the same way Gen. Nathan Bedford Forrest forced his naughtiest goats to witness what he called his "muzzle loading."

Finally after all that, I'm going to beat you like Jefferson Davis beat his most loyal and favored pieces of property when one of them spilled his julip.

That is if you're man enough to show up.

Heterosexually yours,

Gen. JC Christian, patriot


  1. INTERNET FIGHT CHALLENGE! INTERNET FIGHT CHALLENGE! It doesn't get any manlier than that!

    In fairness to, I can see why he writes the so-called "free verse," because it's hard to find words that rhyme with "shit."

  2. Genrul,

    You best be careful down there. They got the myopia real bad, and are as likely to shoot at vapors and mist as they are to fire at flesh. The South will rise again, and then a nurse will come along and say "there, there" and then it will go back to slumber, dreaming of secession and slavery. Their mission statement has been in tatters for 145 years--ain't enough adhesive out there to fix it.

  3. Sir,
    I'd advise to steer clear of scat-fetish and anal obsessed bigots, Sir.
    If the aforementioned trouser dropping does occur - remember to place the star on said butt - cheeks before shouting "basium meus rosy rutilus ass".

  4. This comment has been removed by the author.

  5. Well, taunting is fine, but just make sure you don't mention anything about some people owning other people or making them use different water fountains or not sending help for a deadly hurricane or what-not. You know how sensitive the Confederates get about these things.

  6. General, Sir:

    Is this feller a bud of that there Confederate Yankme feller up there in Connecticut? I mean, other than the rather obvious anger issues he seems like a sensitive sortaguy. I mean, like, heterosexually red-blooded, cryin' at the end of "Old Yeller", sensitive not the pickin' out new drapes for the bunker sorta sensitive. Just sayin.


We'll try dumping haloscan and see how it works.