They wanted to chant the ten little Indians

They wanted to chant the ten little Indians again. This time he started chanting, "Ten Little White People." The crowed was stunned into silence. All eyes upon him. How could

he hope to survive such a transgression on the celebration of Chief Seattle's birthday so deep in Tulalip territory. Tourette's had always made life interesting, but it was better

to just go by. GO F*CK YOURSELF!! The former VP had Tourette's Syndrome, which GO F*CK YOURSELF!!, caused

quite a ruckus during church bingo night. At the first outburst, Betty soiled herself and started giggling to herself, "There's a lot of poop in there" Her attendant crinkled his

nose, but said nothing. At the moment the Bingo caller's head began to spin round and around. "B as in Beelzebub, 666." Betty screamed Bingo even though

a rousing rendition of "Tomorrow" from Annie. "The sun'll come out, tomorrow! Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow...." The red-headed stepchild belted the tune with the power of

four grown mules. And not just any grown mules. I'm talking about professionally trained singing mules. But I digress. The little girl

wasn't thinking about any of that as she steered the motor home into traffic. "Who's your little princess now, mother fucker", she intoned, nearly oblivious to the singing mule

that she now found herself on. Around her the lights swirled and gleamed of heavenly harmonics, but god did not want her, and as the mule whistled through the gates, the fire rose.