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KeithSpeak - August 2020


August 1, 2020
The vile orange smear says that he may not leave the White House when he loses the upcoming election. Bwahaha!  He's gonna waddle downstairs and hide out in the bunker. He thinks he's Anne Frank without the charm. He'll even think he's "winning" until the real President removes widdle Donnie's pacifier, his phone; his tweeter machine; the only thing his stubby little fingers have abused that haven't sued him for sexual assault. Eventually, as with everything old and rotten, the bunker will smell of fetid white trash and they will flush it. Then they will create a new national holiday - Never Trumper Tuesday. Glorious, no?
August 2, 2020
He wanted to become a fireman.
She was upset and told him so.
She reminded him that he was an accountant.
She said he'd never lifted anything heavier than a ledger book.
He said he needed some excitement in his life. Fires seemed exciting.
She wanted to know what was going to happen if he got horribly disfigured in a terrible accident. Maybe a roof collapse. Maybe a crazed arsonist.
He said he would then just go back to accounting. Numbers don't care what you look like.
She acquiesced.
He went to fire school.
He got hit by a fire truck on his first day and died on the second.
To mitigate liability, the fire school told her he had been killed by a crazed arsonist escaping a roof collapse. They were sorry for her loss.
She said she knew it. She knew it! Chalked it off to women's intuition and went on with her life.
Moral of the story? Well obviously, fire trucks are bad. Bad trucks. Bad bad trucks. Duh.
August 3, 2020
Overheard two couples at the grocery.
-- What say we invite Marge and Colin over and make this a real party?
-- I hate Colin. You know that.
-- And Marge is a phony. Why would you suggest them coming?
-- I don't know. It seemed like a good idea?
-- He wants Marge here because he thinks she's hot and he wanted to ogle her all night.
-- Is that true, Barry?
-- I dunno. Yeah, I guess.
-- Well what's the matter with ogling my Barbara here?
-- Marvin!
-- I'm just saying. Don't you think Barb is hot?
-- Well, yeah, she's kinda hot.
-- Barry!
-- Well she is. But I don't want your wife, Marvin.
-- Whoa, don't I get a say in this?
-- Barb-
-- Shut up, Marvin. You're the one who offered me up like dessert. Why don't you want me, Barry? What's Marge got that I haven't got? Come on, Barry, spit it out.
-- Relax, Barb. He just craves little phony Marge. Well fine, let's invite them. Let's watch Barry make a fool of himself. Let's watch Barry drool over someone who isn't his wife - in front of his wife! You bastard! I HATE you Barry Podolski!
-- Ok, ok, so we won't invite Marge and Colin to the party. It'll be just us. That way it stays an intimate evening between two couples and not some all out orgy with Barry humping Marge and the rest of us hating Colin. You good with that?
-- Yeah.
-- Ok.
-- Sure, whatever.




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