That's how it always starts..

 

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The Russian's aren't shit. We all know from watching youtube, that each ukrainian tank can easily shoot 20 russian tanks to bits. those russian drunk Kulaks are to blame cause nobody provoked them, our culture is sound and Putin is an evil dictator. He is NOT played by an actor (aka a condom of the devil) but real and the most evil man alive. He owns a palace bigger than the chateau of Versailles and schemes every day how to annex Ukraine and fire Rockets unto sovereign countries that are NOT filled to the brim with morons and NOT run by Jooze.  the chinese military also is made from ordnance and hardware bought from Temu and Alibaba. All we have to do is keep sitting like KANGZ in our dugouts and bunkers, flying our fancy drones around (Drones, Drones, we need more bloody DRONES!! and also did i mention more DATACENTERS? ), draping every ukrainian forest in glasfiber like Lametta on a christmas tree, which turns the whole area into a live art performance, a celebration of the virtue and spirit of the human race. If a russian platoon enters your village, plundering groceries from the supermarket, just tell them your gender pronouns and bellow a hearty "Katyusha" and play some hardbass or Sektor Gaza on your iphone. Keep voting mainstream parties and don't forget to like and subscribe your favourite interracial cuckold-porn channel. (Dogfart rules supreme!) You should watch at least 1 video per day of gigantic niggerdicks fucking white girls for pure sport, while the useless caucasian retard ( played by your favorite ingenious SAG-AFTRA certified jew actor) sulks in the cuckchair, soiling his diapers and rattling his baby-rattle. it doesn't make sense really but its good foar deh Jooze and as you know you only exist to do, create and believe whats GUDFOARDEHJOOOZE. that's the only reason you exist, Dumbo. 

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Pure Cohencidence:

tomorrow on September Eleven 2026 is the 25 year anniversary of the "attacks" of the World trade Center in Jew York City.

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Come out ye Blaggards with fake tans (Gas Lads)

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I was born near a tanning shop

Where the bottles never stop

And the lads outside were glowing 

like a Fanta can

Every Friday after work,

Sure they'd come out looking burnt

And they'd swear to God above 

it was a natural tan

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Me uncle saw a fella

With his elbows turning yellow

And his neck was like a map of Donegal

So he shouted from the van

Will ya wash yer orange hands?

And the neighbors joined together in the call

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Come out ye Blaggards with fake tans

Come out and show us both yer hands

Show us where the knuckles meet the fingers

Tell us how yer face is brown, 

but yer ears have letcha down

And the smell of coconut oil still lingers

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Come out ye Blaggards with fake tans

Come out and face the bathroom fans

Tell us why your bedsheets look like flanders

There's a stripe behind your knee

And yer color's turning tea

From the fine and lovely lanes 

of fake tan candor

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Come tell us how you claim

That the sunshine is to blame

Though it's lashing rain from Monday until Froiday

You were pale at half past eight,

Then mahogany by late

And you say "i caught the color in the driveway"

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Where are the boasts and cheers,

When the patch behind your ears

Is shining like a warning from the moon

You can swagger all you like

But yer ankles tell the truth

Sure the tan gave up before it reached your shoes

 

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Come out ye Blaggards with fake tans

Come out and show us both yer hands

Show us where the knuckles meet the fingers

Tell us how yer face is brown, 

but yer ears have letcha down

And the smell of coconut oil still lingers

 

Come out ye Blaggards with fake tans

Come out and face the bathroom fans

Tell us why your bedsheets look like flanders

There's a stripe behind your knee

And yer color's turning tea

From the fine and lovely lanes 

of fake tan candor

#  #

 

Come tell us of the night

When you thought you looked all right

Under nightclub lamps 

and fifteen pints of courage

But the flash went off at two

And the photos all came through

And your face was like a roasted Sunday porridge

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How bravely you denied

that your palms were orange dyed

Like you'd wrestled with a bag of spicy crisps

But the truth was plain to see

From your wrists down to your sleeve

There were tide marks 

where the confidence had slipped

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Come out ye Blaggards with fake tans

Come out and show us both yer hands

Show us where the knuckles meet the fingers

Tell us how yer face is brown, 

but yer ears have letcha down

And the smell of coke and nut oil still lingers

 

#  #

Come out ye Blaggards with fake tans

Come out and face the bathroom fans

Tell us why your bedsheets look like flanders

There's a stripe behind your knee

And yer color's turning tea

From the fine and lovely lanes 

of fake tan candor

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And we're not against the glow lads, 

a glow is grand

But when your forehead's marbella

And your neck is mayo in november

Questions must be asked..

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Now the time is coming fast

When the filters will not last

And the daylight will expose 

the whole performance

There'll be streaks upon the stairs

There'll be towels beyond repair

And a bathroom 

that requires a risk assessment

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So if you're heading out tonight

With your elbows shining bright

And your palms like they've been 

digging up the garden

take a cloth and take a prayer

Blend the jawline if you dare

Or the Gas Lads 

will be calling out this Chorus..

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Come out ye Blaggards with fake tans

Come out and show us both yer hands

Show us where the knuckles meet the fingers

Tell us how yer face is brown, 

but yer ears have letcha down

And the smell of coke and nut oil still lingers

#  #

 

  
Come out ye Blaggards with fake tans

Come out and face the bathroom fans

Tell us why your bedsheets look like flanders

There's a stripe behind yer knee

And yer color's turning tea

From the fine and lovely lanes 

of fake tan candor

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Come out ye Blaggards with fake tans..

Blend your wrists and wash your hands..

And don't be blaming spain, 

if you were never there..

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Hey!