One morning John Wayne woke up with a hard dick so he decided to defend the Alamo. But first breakfast taco with a fuckton of Tabasco. Washed down with cerveza? You know it, motherfucker. Freedom ain't free and neither are your sins, ninos. Some motherfucker has to die in a big ass way. Might as well be John Wayne.
"How many pesos for a blow job?" John Wayne asked Natalie Portman. Natalie Portman is not a Mexican but if you squint really hard she could play the part. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Kind of sexy in a skinny farfetched way. Salma Hayek is sexier but she won't kiss John Wayne for any amount of money. Also. She has tits. Tits cause confusion within the context of historical romance. Tits are not allowed to outshine El Alamo.
John Wayne got his blow job but his dick was still hard (gracias, Viagra) so he got on top of the Alamo with a gun of some kind (it was really fucking big and really fucking LOUD) and started killing motherfuckers like some kind of Monster Energy Drink fueled video game warrior. Soundtrack by Judas Priest or Iron Maiden or maybe Metallica circa "Master of Puppets." There's a novel called Nova's Gone Potty written by a native Texan. The toilet talks in Ozzy Osbourne's voice for obvious reasons. No one dies but almost.
"I can't drive fifty-five," Sammy Hagar said.
"Bitch, please," Eminem said.
John Wayne didn't say anything because he died for your sins. A Zeta gunned his ass down in front of the sno cone stand in front of Ripley's Believe it or Not Wax Museum. You're welcome, babies.
"How many pesos for a blow job?" John Wayne asked Natalie Portman. Natalie Portman is not a Mexican but if you squint really hard she could play the part. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Kind of sexy in a skinny farfetched way. Salma Hayek is sexier but she won't kiss John Wayne for any amount of money. Also. She has tits. Tits cause confusion within the context of historical romance. Tits are not allowed to outshine El Alamo.
John Wayne got his blow job but his dick was still hard (gracias, Viagra) so he got on top of the Alamo with a gun of some kind (it was really fucking big and really fucking LOUD) and started killing motherfuckers like some kind of Monster Energy Drink fueled video game warrior. Soundtrack by Judas Priest or Iron Maiden or maybe Metallica circa "Master of Puppets." There's a novel called Nova's Gone Potty written by a native Texan. The toilet talks in Ozzy Osbourne's voice for obvious reasons. No one dies but almost.
"I can't drive fifty-five," Sammy Hagar said.
"Bitch, please," Eminem said.
John Wayne didn't say anything because he died for your sins. A Zeta gunned his ass down in front of the sno cone stand in front of Ripley's Believe it or Not Wax Museum. You're welcome, babies.
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