The Opposition

I have never, ever, been so filled with outrage as I am right now. My hand holding my morning scotch is trembling. The tinkling of the ice (two cubes, made from glacier water) has upset my adorable house cat, Mister Whiskers. He is now licking his paw. I can only quench my rage by licking scotch off the fingers of my ruthlessly efficient assistant, Sonjia DeSade. You can learn alot from cats.


It would be unfair to mention what horrible crimes what's his name, 'The Mayor', committed in his past life, let alone the details of his botched execution that lead to improvements in the development of an alternating current distribution system. I avoid such low tactics.



Lisa keeps posting pictures of one of her boots. Why? Let us face it, is this the sort of creature that You, the People of Mitchieville, want to wake up to in the morning? Have her tell you what to do, to fetch and carry? Take a hint, my fellow citizens: Lisa, if elected, will have you polishing those boots when they are not kicking you in the arse.



Todd is not speaking much lately. Is he indisposed? Has he taken the mother ship back to the home planet? Todd's culture is alien to many of our diverse multi-cultural cultures. He stands out in the petri dish, so to speak.


I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this.