I knew at twelve in 1970 that Trudeau had taken my dreams and aspirations into his fist and with a great Chutzprking
Lunger and a Medulla scraping Spit for good measure crunched them into a ball and stomped them to the ground with another gob of his slimy toxic Phlegm added stabbingly from the end of his flicking Trident shaped Tounge for the Coup de Grace. Bastard. I'll cheer the death of that Swamp Thing Forever and Ever.
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