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Aik der Goathausen

Aik der Goathausen

Snitzel brauth frag. Walking towards Burma four lemons fell or were they melons? 300 cabrnes in a Chick-fil-a and Chris Hale hit upon the most novel idea. Pre-impeached presidents? eh? sounds like conspiracy It's the Canadians! Oui,oui you know friend. We must develop our sweatglands or drown in liverwurst. The worst liver lover ever loves to lick llama livers. Gweinhauser in northern Austria ist un glickenschtat. Und breimer hosen der Germanic fuckwad. Kill any Jews lately, Kraut-boy? "Captain Fatherland!" objected Kraut Boy. "How could you?" He fired a cabbage-blast at his with his Totalitari-Shield. (Damned fritzy browser.) "Der Weinerschnitzel!" cried Hans, pickle lover and leading psychologist. He remembered Kraut Boy as a sympathetic lad, one who would never inflict disease on foes. Recognizing Captain F's identity, he realized the use-it-or-lose-it theory would reveal the truth. Meanwhile, in a town to be named later, Nancy collected dust mites and painstakinglyly tattooed each one in her Easy-Bake oven. The second Kraut-boy's toenail cosmically projected a picture of Otto Preminger gagging on powdered toast. And farting. So they named the place "Later". But Kraut-boy II suffered from congenital deja vu, so he didn't realize that he was actually Kraut Boy. "Kraut-boy," called Nancy, but of course he didn't answer. Meanwhile, Captain Fatherland searched his ballooning pants for anything remotely erect or distinctly pointy. Too late, he noticed the impending impact of vinegar laden cabbage confetti. "Unnnnnhhhhhh!" he wailed in horror. "Arrrrrrrghhh," he cried in histrionic revelrie. "Kraut-boy, you have damaged my libido with uncanny precision." Then the goat exploded.

Copyright 1991-2000 by Pete Magsig

<rank this story> This story was last updated Tuesday, February 24, 1997
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