The Jihad Party Boys are at it again. A fight broke out at the west bunker. Screaming jihadist were pelting each other. The cops didn't come as they did earlier. The Zionist Party Boys were filled with crazed lust for Drag Queen who was out in the alley wearing something cheap, black and tight.
Drag Queen loves her trash and after the fight, she sauntered over to the east barracks to drive them wild with her dance of the seven butt flossers. She stopped on her way to look at the chickens, posed and continued on to the eastern barracks. She left the western barracks still snarling in their Middle Eastern gibberish, growling in that guttural crap they spew for words. Evidently, the language was born from spitting on one another.
The palace lawn is growing again, waiting for another hapless gardener to be snared into labor to cut grass as high as an elephants ass. My gardeners refused the last time. Once taken by Mean Queen and Daddy, they know what these two are up to. The palace is dark and quiet. Daddy is plotting and Mean Queen is waiting for the trap. She knows she is on a thin line with Daddy.
Stories from living in Los Angeles
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