What’s for Supper at Chez Kike?
Posted by alex in Letters, N.B. Forrest at 8:03 am | 
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I was watching some show about an ugly kike who undulates around the world eating disgusting “exotic” shit, then of course crows about it in that multicunt way. He was in the Phillipines in this particular episode, and he came across a peckish gookaboo gourmet who decided to treat his discriminating palate to a most peculiar “delicacy” indeed. He used his rusty machete to split open a rotten palm log, then pulled out a foot-long wood boring worm: bright red, pinky-thick ‘n’ juicy as a whore’s freshly gang-banged cooter. The revolting lil’ monkey cranked open his Nigger Head Oyster-esque maw and gulped it right on down with great satisfaction. Even the juu was visibly squeamish, but since he was in a box, he deported himself ratfully and ate a couple of 4-inch angel hairs from the yiddie menu.
May hundreds of orphaned offspring take vengeance on their large intestines.
N.B. Forrest
30 March, 2007 at 8:09 pm
“What’s for Supper at Chez Kike?”
Order a steak, they serve you a picture of a steak. . .