Monday, August 1, 2016

The Notorious H.R.C.

My pantsuits are stitched together from the carcasses of those I have made disappear. 

People say lock me up. You think I am scared of a stretch in the joint?! I could run this motherfucker from the inside.  

I'm the Notorious H.R.C. and I'll cut a bitch.

- Jim Maher

A woman's gotta be fierce when she's up against a "mangled apricot hellbeast," a "witless fucking cocksplat", an "incompressible jizztrumpet," a "cockwomble," a "tiny fingered, Cheeto-faced, ferret wearing shitgibbon." 

The Scots have always had a way with words.

And yet I hope Shakespeare will ultimately have described him best: "...a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

It's high time we called upon a woman in shining armor --a.k.a. this gangsta here (The Notorious H.R.C.)-- to save the day. 

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