Olé, Olé, Olé, Olé, ’Shaftul nu mai e
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Crankshaft, 12/5/09
Remember how I compared Crankshaft’s garden club harangues to endless speeches from a vicious totalitarian dictator? Well, right here, where he finally puts a cap on the seemingly interminable thing with a terrible, terrible play on words that doesn’t even merit the label “pun” — that’s when the repressed masses angrily rise up and overthrow him in a bloody revolt. I look forward to the live television coverage of the hastily convened kangaroo court, and of his execution.
Marmaduke, 12/5/09
“That’s why he’s going to use his long, prehensile tongue to reach down your gullet and extract it half-digested from your stomach! Trust me, it’ll be easier for you if you stop squirming.”