National Review (founded by Neo-Confederate asshat William F. Buckly), the magazine that nearly deified Francisco Franco, the magazine that defended segregation, the magazine that gave slobbery rim jobs to Apartheid era South Africa has now called Vermont Senator and Presidential candidate Bernie Sanders a Nazi. Yup. They called Bernie Sanders a fucking Nazi. Next they'll call Hillary Clinton a pedophile.
For those unfamiliar with Sanders, he is Jewish. His family died in the fucking Holocaust. Sanders is a self proclaimed Democratic-Socialist. That is, a Scandanavian style Socialist. Think, Capitalist in favor of unions, a strong welfare state, and lots of regulation of the business world.
That NR would make such a claim is beyond the pale. This is beyond the limits of decency. It is, however, more ratfucking.
Showing posts with label dirty things. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dirty things. Show all posts
Monday, July 20, 2015
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Transmissible spongiform encephalopathies
Transmissible spongiform encephalopathies
(Just for us)
by Nathan Tyree
The rhythms of their breath, looped together in twin syncopations, were like venal sin without repentance. Damp scents filled the dark room and the single candle cast shadows about like playful ghosts.
“Here” she said, placing the flat of her palm against his chest and pushing so that he rolled off her and tumbled onto his back.
“What?” He strained to see her in the low, shifting light.
She straddled his pelvis and worked herself down. As he entered her again she said “I don’t believe in God.”
“Not even now?” he asked.
She thrust her hips forward, grinding hard against him. He reached up and gripped her nipple giving it a powerful twist.
“Especially not now,” she said as she quickened her movements drawing closer to orgasm.
“I . . . I . . . Need to . . . “ he tried to make a clear sentence but she clasped her hand over his mouth.
“Shut up,” she said. “Don’t you dare come yet.” Her breathing was changing, they were no longer creating harmony. She was conducting. Then spasm. Release. Her body quaked in waves. The sky seemed to collapse around her.
When she was done she rolled off him and spread her legs. “Here, finish” she said.
He climbed atop her and did just that. When he had exhausted himself and pulled out she said to his receding form “that’s why”.
(Just for us)
by Nathan Tyree
The rhythms of their breath, looped together in twin syncopations, were like venal sin without repentance. Damp scents filled the dark room and the single candle cast shadows about like playful ghosts.
“Here” she said, placing the flat of her palm against his chest and pushing so that he rolled off her and tumbled onto his back.
“What?” He strained to see her in the low, shifting light.
She straddled his pelvis and worked herself down. As he entered her again she said “I don’t believe in God.”
“Not even now?” he asked.
She thrust her hips forward, grinding hard against him. He reached up and gripped her nipple giving it a powerful twist.
“Especially not now,” she said as she quickened her movements drawing closer to orgasm.
“I . . . I . . . Need to . . . “ he tried to make a clear sentence but she clasped her hand over his mouth.
“Shut up,” she said. “Don’t you dare come yet.” Her breathing was changing, they were no longer creating harmony. She was conducting. Then spasm. Release. Her body quaked in waves. The sky seemed to collapse around her.
When she was done she rolled off him and spread her legs. “Here, finish” she said.
He climbed atop her and did just that. When he had exhausted himself and pulled out she said to his receding form “that’s why”.
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