Greetins' an' salutaions, folks, it's been since May since I sounded off on dis here blog 'bout my feelin' and personal man-problems. As you can see from teh above photo, it's only a month out from Christmas, which means I'll be bustin' out my nice blue shirt an' all teh cats one man can handle. Nothin' speaks teh message of Christmas truer than a cat, for it is writtin, second Corthiniosaurs: "Eat, drink, and be merry, and heed teh message of teh feline, for it is paramount amongst God's creatures, and extra special fancy to boot." I think teh true message of Christmas gets lost among all teh commercials, funny hats, an' big ol' bellies swingin' in teh rain. Honestly, has you seen how fat people get right round Christmas time? If you're a chub chaser, tis teh season to go a huntin', specially round Walmart or right outside yur house. If you ask teh Goon, an nobody is, Santa needs to set an example and start eatin' diet cookies and drinkin' diet Mountian dew an' bustin' his ass on teh Ellipetical or whatever it is richies do to keep skinny. Personally, I never has much of a problem keepin' tight and trim. Me diet is on point: a bag of recycled deer jerky fer breakfast an' a sack of leaves marinated in ranch dressin' fer a salad latter in teh day. That's how I keep my ten pack o' muscles.
I suppose I outta weigh in on teh latest controversy evolving our nations President, Mr. Trump. Teh President says he was gonna be on teh cover of Time as teh Person of teh Year, just liek Hitler before 'em, but then tehy said he would have to eat a bag of dicks while conductin' an interview, so he had to decline. I kinda feel liek he should've done it, after all teh stuff he said an did dis year. Our good friend an' resident Alien Hernando got deported fer not turnin' in his DACA papers on time, though he says he did. Me brother Willy has got teh shakes from tryin' to quit Heroin, though he's asked fer help, there ain't no money fer it. There ain't been no jobs comin' to town. Teh orchard don't offer no health insurance, an' since teh Republicans didn't do nothin' to help Obamacare, I don't got many options next year, an' when tehy pass Tax Reform an' take away teh individual mandate, I won't have to get no insurance, which is good, I guess, unlesss I need to go to teh emergancy room fer explosive diareeah liek I've done fer every month teh last few years. I'm jsut pointin' out how all teh President's policies have infected me this year, an' I guess I'm teh lucky one, accordin' to the liberal media, cuz I'm white an male an have ear hair. So far as I'm concerned, he shoulda eaten taht bag of dicks, but whaddya I know? I'm just a simple apple farmer wit a heart of gold.
I feel lieke I outta wish everyone a Merry Chirstmas cuz I won't be around to post on teh Pointless Venture. There's a secret special mission teh Goon's going on: I won't say nothin' else, but it evolves Mexico, cocaine, an' a load of fermented apples. Just remember, it ain't Christmas witout family, an' family can be anybody, an' sometimes yer family get deported because life ain't fair. Merry Christmas, ya'll, an' have a blessed year.
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