My Fake-Dead Buddies

My Fake-Dead BuddiesSo I was being read the news the other day, and it turns out that that pyramid-scheming Ponzi artist, Bernard Madoff, is dying of cancer in jail.

HATM HATM HATM! Sounds just like my former good buddy Ken Lay, right? He’s about to go to jail for massively defrauding the good subjects… people of Kalifornia, and dies of a heart attack just before going to ze coolerTM forever.

And you know the worst part? Ich was somehow dropped into the meatgrinderTM even though the only Enron I know is that lunatic Enron Hubbard who created Sighingtology! EEEEYYYYAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHTM!

So anyway, Ken’s about as dead as Red Sonja is Best Picture material. The schwein is alive and well on the Bush ranch in Paraguay. And he owes me money from last month’s poker tourney. Fake-dead bastard, I should’ve known better.

So I’d only just stopped thinking about how Lay and Madoff were probably gonna become fake-dead buddies, banging hispanic jailbait and owing me money for the rest of eternity, when the news told me Bernie was actually doing just great, and that the whole cancer thing was just BULLSHITTM.

HATM HATM HATM. Media, you guys sure are getting really good at this, it’s compelling shit!

So anyway I’ve booked a ticket to Paraguay for March. I’m gonna get some stogies for the kids, kick Lay’s ass, get my money back, and then give it to Bernie as a moving-in present.


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