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Hi! I'm Baalzepup Pisser-Possum-Bane!!!

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  • Hi! I'm Baalzepup Pisser-Possum-Bane!!!

    Hi! I'm Baalzepup Pisser-Possum-Bane!!!


    http://whitenationalist.org/forum/sh...=2713#post2713
    http://stumbleinn.net/forum/showthre...294#post281294
    http://www.thebeerbarrel.net/showthr...0857#post10857
    http://cjcc-an.blogspot.com/2010/09/...ssum-bane.html


    Baalzepup Pisser-Possum-Bane
    Pastor Lindstedt's Hatchet-Poopy Dawg



    . . . . And if you are a Pisser-Possum or LinderMillerite meercat then I will fuk U up!!! (jewst a little Appy-sprechen there.)

    Early Thursday morning, 2 September 2010, a dirty sneaking half-growed possum cum into the Lindstedt hovel at 338 Rabbit Track Road, here in the ass-pimple of Newton County Missery, home of anglo-mestizo inbred-Jed sucking up lead, i.e. Granby. But I knew that it was not an ordinary half-growed possum. It ws a Pisser-Possum familiar. It was gelded but formerly mumps-nutted like LiarBill DeClue(less) and I sensed that it was saving up itz egg money to pay for a gender change like Oba-gender-bendering-Pisser-Poofter-Possum. Yes, them half-growed possums fresh off a possum tit may look cute -- but they are ratlike evil!!!


    What them Pisser-Possums want you whiggers to think possums look like.

    You see, I am not an ordinary poopy dawg. I might well be a little nigger-colored mamzer-pup, mainly rat terrier and part Aztec stew-pup/Chihuahua, but I was a sinfool whigger mamzerizer sort of like TraitorGlenn Miller and Curt Maynard, and I begged YHWH to cum back, to be reincarnated as Pastor Lindstedt's poopy dawg. And yes, I'm a mean little black bastard, and quite a flea-bag, but I do know my enemy familiars of the spawn of D-g.

    Now I know Daddy/Pastor Lindstedt can anything. Many is the time when I've barked at a mouse which run under the sofa or refridgerator, and begged Daddy to please, please, please pick up the sofa or fridge with one hand so that I could get me a mouse. Sort of like that stupid kitten asks Daddy Sylvester to get him that giant mouse in the cartoons. Now Daddy tells me I need to learn to catch and kill the mouse before it runs under the sofa or fridge and if I can't keep up on things, then tough.

    As long as Daddy don't go along with Momma and give me the dip which gets rid of my fun scratching. I know how to spell B-A-T-H, but usually I try to make myself scarce whenever I hear Daddy flipping on the hot water switch, then washing the dishes, and clothing, and worst of all, the bed sheets. I know the signs, but all I can do is cower like a whigger and wag my tail while Daddy attaches the chain to my collar with my name tags on it. But often Daddy at least takes me down to the mailbox, and encourages me to squeeze off a loaf in front of the stop sign at the foot of the hill on Pighook's and Pighook's Bitch's lawn. I so love to chase their pussy . . . cat. But then the fun ends when Daddy takes me by the scruff of the neck to the sink, and the Zyklon-B fleabath begins. Oh shit!!!

    I remember the time I detected this feral momma cat and her three kittens across the street. Daddy/Pastor Lindstedt wouldn't let me snap the necks of the three little kittens who lost theyz' mittens. And them damn squirrels won't cum down out of the trees and fight it out with me. Well, but whatever creeps or crawls into the house is mine. I mouthed a frog a few months ago, but didn't kill it.

    Well, around midnite the other day, in sneaked a pisser-possum familiar. It wanted to pull a LiarBill DeClue(less) and snoop and spy while pretending to be a friend. But I knew that the pisser-possum was no damn good.

    So I yapped and yapped at it. Momma/Roxie and Daddy/Pastor Lindstedt told me to shut the fuk up. Daddy called me a little black bastard as well.

    But I knew my duty and kept on yapping and yapping. Finally, I decided to do as Pastor Lindstedt/Daddy did with jewdass Roid-Rage-Retard Giles and make the pisser-possum hiss. So I induced the pisser-possum to hiss. I knew that I was on the road to having my way with the lil' half-growed pisser-possum when Roxie said, "Maybe Buddy has treed a snake. Get up and go look, Martin." And Daddy said, "I don't want my Poopy Dawg messed up by a copperhead." So he put on his head light and got up.

    The pisser-possum knew then that it was damned, doomed, and fuked. It snarled itz death-snarl and hissed again.

    I took my eyes off of the pisser-possum and begged Daddy/Pastor Lindstedt to fuk that pisser-possum up. Daddy/Pastor Lindstedt nodded and said, "Go get it, Baalzepup!" It was like in that movie Omen 3, when Ambassador Damien told them hound dawgs to finish off that wop guido mackeral-snapper who wanted to kill him with some sacred knives.

    Well, after I had the green light, then training and instinct took over. I grabbed that lil' pisser-possum by the middle where it couldn't bite me and whipped it around until I broke itz neck. How sweet it is!!! That dying pisser-possum smelt nearly as good as Eau De Skunk or Chanel Dead Catfish!!!

    Daddy told me to drop it as the pisser-possum gave its last twitch. He said, "Baalzepup, the pisser-possum probably is dead -- U fuked it up -- and itz not playing around. Drop it!!!" And when I did, then, "Don't you bite me you little black bastard!" Well, I won't do that. Daddy/Pastor Lindstedt is leader of the pack.

    He took up the dead pisser-possum and He opened up the screen door up a crack and He didn't open it enough for me to go after my dog-yummy prey and then He threw out my prey. "Enough fun for tonite, Baalzepup," He said. But He did take out His Snot Rag and He wiped off the foam and pisser-possum gore and blood from my muzzle.

    The next morning Daddy took pictures of my prize:

    .

    Dead Pisser-Possum in the middle of the road,
    Stinking to high D-g heaven!!!



    The wages of being a Pisser-Possum is death!!!
    .


    After Momma and Daddy got home -- they left me behind again even though I bitched like a combination coyote and grandchild -- in the afternoon, Daddy/Pastor Lindstedt took the fly-blown dead pisser-possum and placed the pisser-possum in a compost barrel. "We will see if this pisser-possum rises from the dead, Baalzepup. But I'll be sure to put a lot of grass-clippings over it to make sure it stays dead."

    .

    Ain't cummin back, Pisser-Possum Jack!!!
    .

    Well, we will see who is the stronger Man of God. Pastor Lindstedt or that dumb-ass ZOGbotting meth-goobering thieving Head Pisser-Possum.



    Hail Victory!!!

    Buddy the Poopy Dawg/Lil' Cujo/Baalzepup
    Pisser-Possum Bane and Fukker-Upper of LinderMillerite Meercats



    Last edited by PastorLindstedt; 09-05-2010, 12:22 PM.

    Why do you THINK they keep me, PastorLindstedt's hatchet-poopy dawg, on a chain for?
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