Flammeus Gladius

Carmina et Verba pro Discipulis Meis

Tag: The Ghost of Biden’s Brain

Tale of a Chubby Cheerleader

Tale of a Chubby Cheerleader

Mark Shea the Bogus Catholic’s A-okay
With cheering on abortion as a right.
His loyalty he’s happy to display.
At last, he’s seen the baby-killing light—
And with those who have not he’ll gladly fight
Online, though fisticuffs are not his deal.
The great big picture now he keeps in sight.
If you object, he snorts and says: “Get real!”
Before Joe Biden he is proud to kneel—
Though maybe Brainless Joe won’t stoop so low
As to sniff such a head or cop a feel
Of flabby pansy flesh presented so.
Nevertheless, Shea offers firm support
For the right, now held sacred, to abort.

–Tom Riley

Rules-Based Order Crowd

The Rules-Based Order Crowd

The rules-based order which these pricks defend
Is such a load of shit, the smell would choke
A goat. As they quite visibly descend
Into a state inspired by meth or coke
Or both, their solemn speeches are a joke—
And all their threats as vain as tranny tits.
Touting their wealth, they’ll soon learn they are broke.
Touting their strength, they’ll soon prove helpless shits.
Right now it’s evident they’ve lost their wits.
Their spokesmouth, who was formerly a fool,
Is now a senile fool. He snorts, and spits,
And then insists he’s competent and cool.
How can such hopeless boneheads cast a spell?
Believe them and they’ll drag you down as well.

–Tom Riley

¡No necesitamos a ningunos Democratas hediondos!

¡No necesitamos a ningunos Democratas hediondos!

You are a breakfast taco now, señor.
So says the ugly, shriveled White House witch,
Joe Biden’s nursemaid, formerly his whore.
Before dementia settled hard, the bitch
Would jump into the pool without a stitch—
And Joe would, too, while Secret Service guys
And girls got sick. Now Joe can only twitch,
And soil himself, and read pre-scripted lies.
The thing is, caballero: if you’re wise,
You’ll take the hint, and ditch this fucking ship,
Ignore the empty and self-serving cries
Of Bidens as they take their final dip,
And vote Republican. Be free, though sad!
Republicans suck, too, but not so bad.

–Tom Riley

Biden Moment

Biden Moment

I had a Biden moment, so they say.
I cannot quite remember what it was.
My pretense to perfection falls away.
I had a Biden moment! So they say.
I call upon the matter that is gray
Within my skull. I hear strange insects buzz.
I had a Biden moment? So they say.
I cannot quite remember what it was….

–Tom Riley

Satisfied Customers

Satisfied Customers

Let’s face it: Creepy Joe was always dumb—
And shifty, telling lies so ill-conceived
That no one ever actually believed.
His self-promotion, always wearisome,
Was sculpted out of shit and bubblegum.
For truths he put to death he never grieved.
His bank account was all that he achieved.
Still, hidden party bosses loved the bum.
His current obvious demented state
Is therefore not a problem with the crew
Who led him to his presidential fate.
The stupider he gets, the more they view
The prick with satisfaction deep and great.
They’re thrilled with all the crap he tends to spew.

–Tom Riley

Joe Did What?

Joe Did What?

I say that Joe did this and Joe did that,
But Joe, of course, is not the one who acted:
He’s too much the demented Democrat,
I say. That Joe did this, and Joe did that,
Is shorthand. A whole group of leftists sat
In council, though the details are redacted.
I say that Joe did this, and Joe did that—
But Joe, of course, is not the one who acted.

–Tom Riley

Elimination Compensation

Elimination Compensation

If only Vlad could be eliminated,
Why, Russians could be just like Lindsey Graham
And Bonehead Joe! Our values must be stated:
If only Vlad could be eliminated—
By which we mean, of course, assassinated—
McDonald’s could return to them. Hot damn!
If only Vlad could be eliminated,
Why, Russians could be just like Lindsey Graham!

–Tom Riley

Creepy Joe and the Great Sanction Orgy

Creepy Joe and the Great Sanction Orgy

Whom shall I sanction (Biden asks) today?
I’ll sanction every state that disagrees.
I’ll sanction every guy that isn’t gay.
I’ll sanction every punk not on his knees
To me and all my buddies. Hard to please,
I’ll sanction those who dare stay uncommitted
To all the lies I pitch as verities.
I’ll sanction those who say they won’t be shitted.
I’m tough as hell, though maybe insect-witted.
I’ll sanction India and China too.
Is it against the facts that I am pitted?
I’ll sanction you and you and you and you!
I’ve soiled my underpants, so why be nice?
America, not I, will pay the price.

–Tom Riley

(Note on the text: Sniffer Joe has of course never been literate enough to use the accusative pronoun “whom” correctly, nor to distinguish between nominative and accusative in such phrases as “America, not I.” And now he’s deep in dementia. He can’t distinguish his fundament from an aperture in the earth. But there’s no percentage in representing Joe’s drooling voice too accurately. T.R.)

Stevie King Ukrainian Potpourri

Stevie King Ukrainian Potpourri

Putin has screwed the pooch, says Stephen King.
Jerk failed to realize that Hero Joe
Would make him pay the price for everything.
Hey, Stevie’s confident – and he should know.
Although this isn’t quite his horror show,
He understands the genre thoroughly:
He understands how things are bound to go
With incarnations of monstrosity.
Biden is sure to force Count Vlad to flee
As once Count Dracula fled London Town—
Or else, like Ben Mears, Biden’s sure to be
Pounding a stake through Moscow’s macho clown.
Before that happens, though – let this be said!—
Joe’s brain must first be summoned from the dead.

–Tom Riley

Need to Vomit Yet?

Need to Vomit Yet?

Well, the press conference settled the question:
Joe’s dementia is no mere suggestion;
It is not a mere act.
It’s observable fact!
And it troubles the nation’s digestion.

–Tom Riley

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