“We the People’s Front of Judea, brackets, officials, end brackets, do hereby convey our sincere fraternal and sisterly greetings to you, Brian, on this, the occasion of your martyrdom.”
There’s no Messiah in here. There’s a mess all right, but no Messiah. Now go away! Oh, what wouldn’t I give to be spat at in the face? I sometimes hang awake at night, dreaming of being spat at in the face
I will not have my fwends widiculed by the common soldiewy. Anybody else feel like a little… giggle… when I mention my fwiend… Biggus… Dickus?
I’m not a roman mum, I’m a kike, a yid, a heebie, a hook-nose, I’m kosher mum, I’m a Red Sea pedestrian, and proud of it! Stwike him, Centuwion! Stwike him vewy wuffly! At this time, a friend shall lose his friend’s hammer and the young shall not know where lieth the things possessed by their fathers that their fathers put there only just the night before, about eight o’clock.