Being an evil anarchist I sometimes venture to Johnny Foreigner websites pushing their fake news on the unsuspecting public about just how wonderful the leading mass murderers of the world are, with this website trying to push a narrative that Vladimir Putin, when he isn't torturing Ingushetians, actually has an adorable love for animals.

The average nationalist from "anywhere" but the pro-russian side of the fake reality on planet earth can see quite clearly it's just a photo opportunity as the people who live with the various cats and dogs on display are the actual people who's pets they are. It might be a bit of a sore one to tell a Russian lost in the shite pouring out of the arse of TASS, (the Russian equivelent of the British BBC), that the big tiger in the photo doesn't sit on Putin's fridge being a nuisance like Tiddles. The same blank stare from the propagandised Russian's would ensue the same as it would do for any self-respecting nationalist of anywhere doing the 45 degree salute to the nationalist propaganda of the day.

When you see this blank stare from the morons in your local slave plantation, run quickly as they are about to start doing their own nationalist equivelent of "HOW DARE YOU TAKE THE PISS OUT OF MY BELOVED MASTER WHO KEEPS ME FREE!". You will be accused of being "THE ENEMY" simply for pointing out the little details like Joe Biden blatant child sniffing antics, demonstrating him to be completely unaware that he can't make himself look like the opposite of a child abuser by threatening the kids backstage for not smiling on command. Nationalists dont even notice the things that children just can't hide and the expressions on Putin's pet dogs faces saying "Who the fuck are these men in suits with all sorts of nasty shit going on in their hearts?" are little details you need to prove to them in their never ending endeavours to coat their turds in marzipan.

In North Korea, it must be very easy for the lovers of the great patriot Kim Jong Un to see through the lies and distortions of western propaganda and they probably get some idea that the way the jokers of IRNA portray a fake reality, is pretty much par for the course in countries which don't have "proper democracies" like their own. The scam of the century has become the scam of the millenia worldwide and nobody seems to notice but the evil anarchists and nutty conspiracy theorists and various other witches like myself.

I was invited to a dinner party with the Queen and while I was trying to work out whether to eat the Vermicelli soup with the big spoon or the little fork, the Queen farted. The person to the right of the Queen was quick witted enough to look toward the little Corgi, who looked at me saying "That smelly bitch has done it again and I'm going to get the blame here, help me out human would you?".

Immediately, I got on my knees and started sniffing the dogs arse and I looked up to the astounded crowds now staring at me, and began to shake my head to say "Nope, it wasn't the dog!". I then began to crawly toward the arse of Her Majesty, as members of the astounded crowd began to get agrieved that it was their job to have their head up the Queen's arse not some lowly peasant like me. As the revolvers were reached for in the tuxedo's of those fine men saying "guns should be outlawed" in the public relations statements defying the things within their hearts, I realised I wasn't going to get close to sniffing "who dunnit" without a bullet going through my head. I realised the very idea of accusing the guilty party would result in me being tossed out of the banquet for being so rude to speak the truth. So I accused the man to the left of the Queen, to protect Her Majesty's dignity and my own head from being blown off by lunatics with power.

The whole banquet then began to point at me, as if to say I was the smelly bastard who did it. I just sat down again and accepted guilt for something I didn't do and continued the puzzle of which big spoon or little fork I should use to stir the soup. With no remorse for my lack of manners, farting while everyone is having their dinner, I decided I was going to eat the soup with the spoon and I couldn't care less for the proper etiquette of using chopsticks.

I didn't even get a thanks from the little Corgi for saving its arse from taking all the blame. Who among the banqueteers would ever realise that it figures!

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