Fuck Presidents Day

Look, I know the little moron thinks he's the President. Can you imagine what it's like dealing with his horseshit day in day out? All he wants to do ride that Christless bike. Does he have even half a fucking brain? If he does, he's sitting on it. And they're all wondering why I didn't call him after I shot old Fuckington in the face. Like what for? To listen to his useless spluttering when he tries to remember words? I am so fucking sick of that puking little turd. And that prunefaced librarian cunt of a wife. Give me a break with that face. Now that's a face ready for birdshot bath. Let's all head back to the ranch. Giddeeup.