Randall "Tex" Cobb

   
   "Randall "Tex" Cobb"
  
   Tex, one big dude; plus, he had spirit, a deadly combination, was boxing in Vegas and became drunk punch.  The ref went up to him, asking him if he knew where he was.  Tex said:  "Yeah, I'm getting my ass kicked in Vegas."  Good man.  Pretty damn good.  I get my ass kicked everyday, and I love every minute of it, but not when you sleazeballs kick the ass of the innocents.  I'm not innocent; I've been a bad boy.  So, keep it coming.
   The sea hag and the naughty nurse are always in wicked synergy.  It has been written.  The naughty nurse is preggers, and I didn't even have to touch her.  Check it out--you're having my baby.  How dare you bring filth into my Father's House!!!  Go to your pagans, you pussies--you damn delinquent redskins!  And, like I've said before, I love the American Indian.  I've went down on an American Indian.  She loved every minute of it, and she was clean as a whistle, and gorgeous.  I revere her to this day.  She is honest, living in truth, and better than all of you schmucks who attempt to enslave her--hear me NAACP--don't touch the American Indian, for you are the ones trying to make them slaves.  
   I talked to the devil this morning.  I told him that he wears the DUNCE hat, for all the ages.  The jokes on him.  What souls does he get.  The shysters.  He gets to hang out with Hillary Clinton, Bubba, the Obama family, many members of my pseudo-family, and all the power hungry, like the Guild of Thieves--attorneys.  You know why attorneys don't get hemorrhoids?  They're perfect assholes.  
   I talk to one of my plenty of fathers everyday--his name is G. Gordon Liddy.  He tells me:  "Don't be such a pussy, Mark."  That's one of my names, but I go by many.  The Rand Corporation and their remote viewers can't crack me.  For I'm the Virgin Mary Herself--the Mirror of Justice.  Or maybe I'm not.  No, I'm just pulling your leg.  Or am I?  Thank God for America you NFL losers.  You know what the NFL is an acronym for?  Not fucking long.  
   My Grandma Bertha's people gave Blitzkrieg.  Lighting War.  Took over Poland in one day.  What did the polish woman do when she won the gold medal?  She had it bronzed.  
   I'm pig-shit Irish.  And I love it.  Plus, German, Serb, Swedish--hell, I'm a jumble of proportional paradoxes.  My Dad told me that I had no right to watch Notre Dame football.  He said I'm a mutt, and I never listen.  But I do.  To God.  Is it illegal to be a Catholic?  To believe a cracker is the ultimate power in the Multiverse?  Is my Priest brainwashing people and stealing their money?  You tell me.  Lock him up.  I dare you.  Take his Freedom of Religion, as you attempted to take mine; indeed, too bad I live in America.  The Greatest goddamn country there ever was.  I'm a killer, metaphorically.  I have a beautiful genitalia, metaphorically.  And yes, I'm crazy, allegorically.  Or is there truth in me?  Just an aspect.  Hell, you spit on the garbage man when God came as a mere tradesman.  The trick is on you.  Christ, uneducated, poor, lived with His Mom, and was better than all of you schmucks.  You hate Him.  I know it.  I totally know it.  Because you know, He is better than you'll ever be.  I love every minute of Him.  Is it illegal to say He is my Lord?  Gonna lock me up again for talking to Jesus?  Face it--you hate Him.  You dirty shysters hate Him.  
   I'm gonna talk to my pal now, have a cigarette with him--I mentioned him yesterday--his name is Huckleberry Hound.  He's blue.  He's just a dog.  A nice dog.  I used to watch him as a child in the 1970's.  It's nice to be nice.  It's nice to be a child.  I'm just teasing.  And remember King David's wise words:  "God made leviathan for sport."  This is America.  She is gorgeous.  Please, don't steal Her from me.  She even loves you.  She loves us all.  And I weep when you say we have no rights, for America tells the truth.  She says we have every right.  Even a right to be weird.  God Bless America.  I'm just teasing.  I'm a frightened little man is all.  Or am I?