Spot Embarrassment

You want in on the joke?

Resting on smokes of joke, bunk, and stride, which are encased in cement, it seems outlandish, the diminutive creams seem to belong more to the manicured liars. The Orange Liar — thee antediluvian reptile. (coming soon to a nightmare near you)

Lumbering in the foreground sculpted by fossil fuel fusion. Re-cultured by the most regressive minds south of Paducah. Muddy prehistoric tableaus represented in bacon fat and butter. The first such exhibit for a rabbit bank, and a spectacle of the vegetable minds of the deep penny loather.

Still swampy after all these years and billed as a testament to transceivers-de-frenzy of heavy-sherry mice in a bowl of concrete. Mmm, that’s good eating!

Hollow-out a bowl of tower iguanodon — a massive, ancient herbivore around ten metres in bad hair plug-o-rama — one of Britain’s finest friends in a time of frippery and fraud. Careful, or we’ll sort you for the 52nd state of this pestilent dying fraudulence.

That asteroid can’t come soon enough!

What I’m Reading:

America has just invented Kinder, Gentler Genocide.
The patent is pending.

— Joe Sacco / War on Gaza