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A FREE HOLIDAY GIFT FROM PAMALINSKY!

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To all comrades rationing their rations of gubmint-issued vodka:

That includes all you dudes getting underground Tequila. (You know who you are.)

I freely offer this poem that you can tell during holiday get-togethers. I ripped it off from someone I was working with at NPR. He gave me his permission, though I don't remember his name.

Guaranteed to get laughs, comrades. Ha! They'll think you' re about to go Christian on them just before the punch line! (the last line, of course) Then you pull the rug out from under them! Always a good way to go!

It's easy to memorize, if you love it enough. (And, aren't too drunk.)

However, as a proper role model (whatever that is), I was a bit inebriated at the time, and I still remember it! So, you can too!

EXTRA ADDED BONUS! It can be used on holiday party invitations as well!

Here it is:

"The purest love of a beautiful maid,
And the love of a staunch true man.
The love of a child, unafraid,
Has existed since time began.

But, the greatest love, the love of loves,
Even greater than that of a mother,
Is the intimate, passionate, INFINITE love,
Of one drunken sot for another!"


Happy Holidays, my dear Comrades!
I Love You!

p.s.: You're all a bunch of meanie poopie-heads!

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No, no . . . no!

The greatest love of all is that bestowed upon us by the always benevolent and ever caring Government.

As the daughter of Yelling Yelena, I should know better than anyone that a mother's love is no substitute for a Government program.

For it's the Government that gives you the ration card with which you buy the vodka! The drunken sot will only steal it from you while you're passed out in the alley gutter. (Believe me, I know. Just never mind how.)

The drunken sot will knock you up, Pamalinsky, and then move on to the next female-bodied unit. (Again, I should know—and again, you should never mind how.) But it's the Government that will either pay for your abortion, or—should you decide to keep the baby—will give you the money you need to get new tattoos and piercings and like, totally awesome manicures after the baby is born.

The Government will give you canned formula to feed the baby, thus freeing up your boobs for something more useful—like baring them at PETA and anti-war rallies. The drunken sot will just want to stumble into your tent after dark and grope them.

The Government will give you a free mortgage and free gas! The drunken sot will simply offer to share his tent with you, though he still offers free gas. It's just not the kind you need to juice up your power generator because that snooty bistro across the street from your Occupy park won't let you hook up your extension cord to their socket, even though the cord is yours because it was donated to you.

If I speak eloquently or write well—or even if I only speak or write gobbledy-gooky gibberish— but have not Government to endow me with grants that I may redistribute my words to the masses who would otherwise not hear or read them . . . then I am only a resounding gong or clanging cymbal in a drum circle.

If I give all I have to the poor, but have not Government to take all I have that it might redistribute it to the poor for me—then I am nothing.

Government always protects, always hopes, always perseveres. Government is just always here.

Government never fails . . . simply because it is too big.

And now these three remain: Hope, Change, and Government. But the greatest of these is Government.

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My dearest, dearest Commissarka,

You have prought tears to the eyes of this mere Party ™ operative. Never have I heard such eloquence in the science of governmental apologetics. Such precision and poetry. Is it any wonder that you are adored by so many of our comrades?

Commissarka Pinkie wrote:
If I speak eloquently or write well—or even if I only speak or write gobbledy-gooky gibberish— but have not Government to endow me with grants that I may redistribute my words to the masses who would otherwise not hear or read them . . . then I am only a resounding gong or clanging cymbal in a drum circle.

If I give all I have to the poor, but have not Government to take all I have that it might redistribute it to the poor for me—then I am nothing.

Government always protects, always hopes, always perseveres. Government is just always here.

Government never fails . . . simply because it is too big.

And now these three remain: Hope, Change, and Government. But the greatest of these is Government.

You are the Apostle of Government.

I remain,
Dr. Chicago

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Pamalinsky wrote:[highlight=#ffffff]
p.s.: You're all a bunch of meanie poopie-heads!
[/indentr][/highlight]

Ah, more support for the Party's free diaper program!

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If I have this Korrectly, I can get Pinkie completely soused, then I can:
Steal ration cards--
Knock her up--
Move to the next pleasantly gendered participant--
Check out her Bazooms at the anti-war or PETA rallies, then stumble into her tent for a handful then share my own tent?

This is even better than Dear Leader's (PBUH) Election promises!!!

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Comrade Tovarichi,

As I was gazing into an old gypsy woman's crystal ball, I beheld the future.

And what did I see ?

You...... with a newly-added shovel crease in the side your head.

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That's right Pamalinsky, Commissarka Pinkie knows, we the beloved, loving, and all caring Government are your new sugar daddy. We got your back..(*wink*wink*). Just visit a local OWS rally to get your ration of Government love.

Now if you'll excuse me I need to go teach another Womyn's Studies course. We have a fresh new young batch of freshmen womyn in.

Free fresh cracked eggs at Chatham.

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Tovarichi wrote:If I have this Korrectly, I can get Pinkie completely soused, then I can:
Steal ration cards--
Knock her up--
Move to the next pleasantly gendered participant--
Check out her Bazooms at the anti-war or PETA rallies, then stumble into her tent for a handful then share my own tent?
Tovarichi, why do you say all that as if you haven't tried it already (with numerous shovel-shaped dents in your head to prove it)?

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My credentials as a drunken sot have only been productive to a point. Its time to expand to my FULLEST POTENTIAL! Who knew how far the boundaries had actually moved?

Yes Ma'am, I'm one happy occupying camper! May I offer you a drink?

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As Kommisarka of the Ministry of Love, I would like to remind you that at the Ministry, there are many of us happy to get sotted and groped by any of the gentleman of the Kollektive.

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I love it when they play hard to get .

And Princess, I hate to tell you this, but there's a decided shortage of " gentlemen " around the Kollective. But let me check first.

" Hey....... has anybody ever seen a gentleman around here ?"


( insert sounds of crickets at night )

" No ?"


Like I was say'n, Princess..........

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Think nothing of it, Comrade Krasnodar. In an uptight, capitalistic society, people selfishly guard their virtue, not understanding the superiority of Free Love, denying their feelings and in fact depriving the Kollektive of their own bodies.

Of course, we reserve the right to be uptight about other things. Like criticism of Dear Leader.

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Somethin's not right, here.

You or your friends don't have anything catch'n, do ya ?

Remember when Hillary said Bill was the victim of " a vast right-wing conspiracy " when the whole Monica Lewinsky deal hit the fan ?

I hope I'm wrong, but you and your associates could actually be Republican operatives out to ensnare those in Our Party leadership, releasing videos and photos on the internet about three days before the election. ( We're fairly good at that sort of thing ourselves !)

A little paranoia never hurt anyone....

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Comrades,

I apologize profusely for not responding sooner to your posts! Thing is, I had to do an emergency perusal of Wikipedia to find the definition and remedies for things like scabies, grunge (I thought it was a type of rock band, silly me), ringworm, head lice, symptoms of TB, trick knees, etc. It was just exhausting for me. I thank you for your patience.

Last night I did try to respond but, the computer ate my post, (I forgot to copy it first. Doh!) and I was too tired to redo it. Again, I apologize, since I know this is the remedy for all things prog. No restitution is necessary. If I have offended anyone by this inaction, I um, er, apologize. Blah, blah, blah! There! We're all set!

Commissarka Pinkie!
That is the most smashing extrapolation of just eight lines of copy I have ever read! Stunning, really. Eloquent? Absolutely! You didn't even have to use your shovel! I dutifully stand corrected!

OF COURSE our greatest love is THE GUBMINT! Doh!

BTW Pinkie, what do you think the odds are for my getting a reimbursement for my ruined keyboard? I spewed coffee all over it after reading your post. (I smell lawsuit!) Of course, I would never sue YOU, Pinkie, never in a million years!

No reimbursement? O.K. Didn't think so. I shall carry on for the collective. Um, Honey? Where is that vodka?Edit: Too much space between paragraphs.

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Princess Nookie wrote:Think nothing of it, Comrade Krasnodar. In an uptight, capitalistic society, people selfishly guard their virtue, not understanding the superiority of Free Love, denying their feelings and in fact depriving the Kollektive of their own bodies.
I denounce the capitalist 2%er guarding of virtue!

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Since we're talking about love, let me share this with you! It's Al Jarreau's "Better Than Anything" which says what I feel about us Cubers. It get's good at 2:53 if you wish to skip to the improv part, which reminds me of us. Enjoy!https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AMw_ZgM ... re=related Edit: Should not be an "e" at end of the word, improv! Arrgh!


 
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