The Obnoxious Transvestite Society (Lithuania)

HELLO I AM MULA FISCHER DUNCAN. I AM THE PRESIDENT OF THE OBNOXIOUS TRANSVESTITE SOCIETY FROM LITHUANIA. HERE AT THE OBNOXIOUS TRANSVESTITE SOCIETY, OR OATS, AS WE LIKE TO CALL IT, WE ARE TERRIBLY OBNOXIOUS TO EVERYONE WE MEET, ESPECIALLY STRANGERS LIKE YOU. WHICH IS WHY IT IS PERHAPS APPROPRIATE TO STATE THAT I AM CURRENTLY WEARING A YELLOW SOCK ON THE END OF MY PENIS WHICH IS BEING HELD ALOFT BY A MIDGET. WE DO THESE THINGS TO STAND OUT FROM THE CROWD BECAUSE HELL YEAH! WE'RE OBNOXIOUS! AND IF YOU THOUGHT THIS MESSAGE WAS AN INITIATIVE TO RECRUIT MORE PEOPLE TO OUR SOCIETY, THINK AGAIN. WE DON'T WANT YOU. WE'RE OBNOXIOUS. NANANANANANANANANANANANANANANANA LULULU I FARTED. HERE AT THE OBNOXIOUS TRANSVESTITE SOCIETY, WE ARE NOT TRANSVESTITES. IT'S JUST A NICE WORD. SORT OF LIKE "RUBBER" OR "UNFATHOMABLE". THIS IS MULA FISCHER DUNCAN FROM THE OBNOXIOUS TRANSVESTITE SOCIETY SAYING FUCK YOU! IT'S MY SANDWICH.

MINE.

The Winkle Foundation

Hey there. This is Lewis Von Winkle from the Winkle Foundation for overly attractive women. Here at the Winkle Foundation you, an overly attractive woman, will receive first and foremost the warmest of welcomes, even warmer than your family or a weekend in Egypt on a hot afternoon in June. But that is besides the point. What else would I get? Is what you are probably thinking. And if you weren't, well, you're definitely thinking it now, aren't you negro? I'm sorry, but in my country, 'negro' means 'beautiful'. So where was I? Ah yes. The au naturalle foot massage. The personal beach with a bubble-bath sea, and best of all: a night with me! Yes, here at the Winkle Foundation, the grandest prize for you, overly attractive woman, is a night well spent at the Stuff It Inn with your very own Lewis Von Winkle! Oh and I love you, and it was me who stole your tea-cushion. No, I'm not sorry. It makes for a great festive hat. And I like it. It keeps things festive around your head. Like eating a can of bread with the sharp end of a spoon. Ha you fell for it, didn't you? Here at Lewis Von Winkle, we share a laugh before we spy on you. This is the Winkle Foundation, saying peace out, fleece in, mexico, pelvis girdle, space-tha-fuc-disco shit-graze dig mother bitchin'-funk-a-doodle-doo!

Cream Cheese Sex Clinic

Hi, I'm Marcy Chadman from the Cream Cheese Sex Clinic. Here at Cream Cheese Sex Clinic, we clinically cheese out your sex cream, with an innovative alternative to a vacuum cleaner and we call it the Mexican. The Mexican comes in five sizes: tequila, tequila, tequila, tequila and large can of tacos. Not just that, we also have a special lump of a prize for all our patrons and slaves! Breast cancer! It's the new way to evolution! Here at Cream Cheese Sex Clinic, we spare our radioactive waste for your beautiful glowing skin, to glow brighter in a fluorescent manner for millenias to come, even after your death! And so much more for your most vulnerable areas: we have, for example, the rarest, most expensive form of herpes! Get herpes from celebrities and politicians! Be the new cool infected terminally ill pop-sock of our society! This is Marcy Chadman broadcasting from the Cream Cheese Sex Clinic observatory that is shaped like a drunk vagina, saying Hitler was a sweetiepie and my nipples went to France! Tune in next time for more creamy cheesy sex pick up lines for the clinically-impotent.

Men (for) Talking Boobs Organisation

Hello, I'm Mark Zachary from the Men For Talking Boobs Organisation. We here at Men For Talking Boobs Organisation have a very long traditionally ingrained method of having a lively and wholesome conversation with the breasticles of our significant others. Now, many of you out there will say, "oh, dear god! A talking boob?! Preposterously sick!" But hear me out here. Imagine the scenario: You wake up one morning with your brain far up your butt because of all that damn tequila you drank last night. You didn't brush your teeth before you passed out so now the inside of your mouth tastes like the asscrack of a greasy fat man who stuffs bits of pickled garlic in between said asscrack. You get out of bed and limp to your toilet, which reeks of vomit and filth. Inevitably you miss the latrine while you absentmindedly take your cock out for a piss. The carpet turns a darker shade of its own colour as your stray piss accumulates around it. Right at this moment your wife comes in, swearing like a fucking dragon-slayer from the ghetto. You realise suddenly that she pays you no respect and makes you no breakfast. You slap her and she falls on the soaked piss-carpet. From then on she is quiet and listens to you, but you for the life of it cannot squeeze out a single word of conversation from her. However, she has sex with you for she is afraid you'll beat her. Quite alright. While you're down to business you gaze philosophically down at her luscious titties...and they say "hello!" You're amazed! Baffled! Turned on! You spend the rest of your life treating your wife like shit and having the conversations you can't have with her...with her own boobies! Through these years we have seen many breasts rise up to fame and flatulence: Squishy the Right-Wing talk show host in "The Daily Boobage", Rapunzel Finch who is a writer, writing on the eventual freedom of breasts from the bondage of women, and of course, Lilly and Lilly, the two talented twin tits who made it big...well, literally. So big, in fact, that they were most successful in UN peacekeeping missions where they were used as talking shields that would make bullets bounce noiselessly off them, and at the same time have a lively, loud and eventful conversation about money, education and the healthcare system with the enemy soldier. Yes, here at MFTO, we share a dream. This is Mark Zachary, and I just love boobies.

this drifting brain
is harrowed through
in mindless laughter
it sings to you

( o Y o )

we need a
revolution.
and yet this
this is what we do
with the very same language
with the very same alphabets
that assata shakur used
to write her autobiography:

( o Y o )