by OPOVV, ©2019

(Mar. 28, 2019) — “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to another respite for your constantly-attacked center of being: what makes you you. Hello, my name is Roving, as in Roving Reporter (RR), and we’re on our way to the farm of Mr. K, about 30 miles out of town, to see if he’s had any more ‘strange doings.’ For you long-time viewers – back in our satellite days – you’ll recognize that we were out here about four years ago, so it should be interesting to see if anything’s changed as we pull off the main road onto the long winding driveway over a couple of hills and down a couple of dells. As we pull in front of the farmhouse we see Mr. K step off the front porch to greet us.”

“How you doin’, Roving and crew? Glad you could make it. Well, what do you think?”

“I think you painted all the buildings silver; now why in blazes did you do that?”

“To reflect them radio beams, that’s why. You’re in the business, so you ought to know.”

“Right; makes sense, just as your cows wearing, what, silver pajamas?”

“Cows sleep a lot, but then you city folk wouldn’t know that.”

“So what did you do to the chickens?”

“I spray-painted them — what, you think they make PJ’s for chickens? Boy, you need some help. You need a few sessions on Professor Zorkophsky’s couch.”

“I’ll take that under advisement. Let’s take a break.”

What is Life” (4:23)

“When you called, you said you had some pretty important information.”

“For over 20 years the Deep State has been working behind the scenes so after 9-11 it all came to pass.”

“What came to pass?”

“Unrestricted and non-vetted immigration of the very people who killed so many of us on that infamous day. So President Bush rushes into Afghanistan to wipe out the terrorist training camps, only to have those same camps set up shop in the 22+ locations around the United States that we know as Islamovilles.”

“We believe you, but how do you get your information way out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“I have a telepathic ability to read what the animals are thinking, not all, but some.”

“Prove it.”

“Let’s walk out behind the barn; that’s where the pigpen is. Hey, guys and gals, this is Roving, the guy I was telling you about. How about telling him what you think about Muslims. Hold it! I’m sorry, Roving, about the bad language; I know your show is a family show and I apologize. Let’s go to the porch and see what the dogs have to say. Go ahead and tell Roving what you told me this morning.”

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Then let me tell you: they think you’re all stark raving mad, is what. Why in the tarnation would you want people around you who kill Jews and Christians? It just doesn’t make any sense. They use the excuse that their countries are violent; that women are honor killed; sold as brides as young as 7; and women are beaten and wear burqas to cover scars and bruises, besides subject to FGM’s.”

“But they do all of that here.”

“Right, they do, and that’s the point: no matter where they are, it’s the same: they export mayhem, destruction and misery.”

“So, what you’re saying is that there’s no reason for them to leave anywhere because no matter where they leave they’re already there.”

Or…the cesspool they know is what they recreate wherever they end up.”

“That’s what I was trying to say.”

“And that’s right: which means that the excuse they use – getting away from violence – is bogus; it doesn’t wash; it doesn’t pass the smell test. Ever been overseas and take a walk through town and start to smell something, like a landfill? That’s the Muslim section of town, no kidding.”

“No kidding?”

“No kidding. So, look, you can’t have Muslims and normal people living together, because what happens is that the Muslims kill the Jews and Christians. Look at it this way: killer whales hunt, kill and eat seals while Muslims hunt Jews and Christians — and kill them — and then pat themselves on the back, see?”

“Got it. So, what are we going to do about it?”

“First of all we have to admit that mistakes were made – for whatever reason – and then we have to pick a remedy that works for us; not them, but us. And that’s it, the whole ball of wax. Either we survive, either we keep our Republic, or we don’t; it’s that simple.”


“They came in through the front door and they can leave through the front door. And now I must play my guitar and sing my cows to sleep.”

“And that’ll do it for us, I’m afraid, so, on behalf of the crew, I’ll be wishing you all a goodnight: Goodnight.

“Good show. Burger time: my treat.”

Texas Lullaby” (4:14)


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