When He Laughed, Respectable Senators Burst with Laughter, and When He Cried the Little Children Died in the Streets

Heh, I've asked numerous times over the years of bleg if anyone could recommend a program that would allow me to post my calligraphic scratchings. Consider yourself warned.

I love you, I won't do it to you, though I'd do almost anything to get the taste of America's sherrodgasm out of my mouth.

• Nobody cares.
• The lies that bind.
• Fuck Your Goddamned Optics.
• I can't believe it's not butter.
• On power.
• It works.
• NSA building off 32 and nympho-librarians. One exists.
• I'm on a world serpent.
• UPDATE! No. Sillyass question.
• Steny Fucking Hoyer, Asshole-Maryland.
• Metro!
• Surprisingly, BLCKDGRD did not make WTOP's list.
• Selfish idiots.
• Witz?
• As if by chance.
• The meaning of existence.

EPITAPH ON A TYRANT

W.H. Auden

Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,
And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;
He knew human folly like the back of his hand,
And was greatly interested in armies and fleets;
When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter,
And when he cried the little children died in the streets.

Aoodom5fse: