Thursday, August 26, 2004

For The Last Fucking Time... You Can Not Have The Park.

Unite all tinfoil hat wearing moonbats, rejoice in you're second court loss in as many weeks.

Like Shaq swatting away a Allen Iverson lay-up in the paint. You got served, a spaldeen facial planted right across your unkempt, unwashed bodies. So trip over your Birkenstocks and go find another place to disrupt, maybe Wyoming or Vermont because the park is closed for business.

Ass monkeys you, your ilk your friends and your pets are not welcome in New York.

Read the Seattle Times, while you enjoy your Starbucks coffee and Nirvana CD.

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