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Magnificent tomb
2025-03-05 17:04:40 / IDE
To gather in a pre-election coalition all the famous clowns, the notorious ignorant, the functionally illiterate, the most famous bastards, all the fools, the empty-headed, the thieves, the spies, the fools, the fence-sitters, the delirious, the quixotic, the scoundrels of the Dictatorship, the nomenclature's scum, in other words the scum of the Nation, is this not a magnificent feat that will be remembered and honored for centuries?
To have the shamelessness, the party that others created, voted for, helped, to kill and bury, not with the hands of another, so that you can then doubt whether it is alive or dead, but with your own hands, and without batting an eyelid to promise while howling that you will resurrect it, is there a more magnificent criminal absurdity?
To lose for years and years, and each time to cry out that you were robbed, what could be other than an unprecedented and unheard of magnificent madness?
To make propaganda with the idiotic hope that by paying with stolen money a gang of masturbatory slobs who chatter around the barbecue while roasting chestnuts on the embers on a winter night, isn't that a lie so magnificent that no one can bear it?
The words, the vocabulary, the gestures, the maneuvers, the tricks, totally and minutely from the Orwellian communist museum archaeology, so much so that they would make Lenin, Stalin, and the Devil himself laugh, there is no greater Bolshevik impudence.
To have the party with everything at its head: departments, sections, directors, bosses and others, and to attack Albania back and forth and around and around, and not be able to find 1 for 1, I'm telling you, sympathizer, because the electorate has evaporated completely, I say, you uncircumcised dead man, is there a more magnificent deceitful folly than this?
To lose and lose endlessly until the losses are blazing from your eyes and ears and from all your pores, and yet not to leave, is there a more magnificent evil than this?
To scream and shout day and night, lamenting the plight of the Albanians that they are dying for bread, and under the rug to erect towers in complete synchrony with the scoundrels of power, is there any other name for this horror than magnificent criminal duplicity?
To give yourself to power with full knowledge and conscience by tearing up your mandates and rejecting everything with the idiotic hope that after this the power will collapse on its own and fall into your mouth like a fig seed for you to just bite and eat, then without a shred of shame to scream and howl that everything you gave them has been stolen, if you think it's anything other than grandiose ass-kicking.
You have nothing to do with persecution. You're keeping some black-faced bastard around. Burn your grave to whoever thinks this is anything other than grandiose infidelity with catastrophic consequences.
You have built villas and businesses in European and world metropolises. You have bank accounts hidden in tax havens. You spend endless millions on speeches, congresses, lobbies, demonstrations and so on. Call it whatever you want. It is nothing less than magnificent bandit filth.
You set fire to the Parliament, and call it parliamentary activity. No, no. This is nothing more than magnificent, animalistic, self-destructive vandalism.
Justice is looking for you for corruption. America has sentenced you to Non Grata. You have a thousand other tax cases on your back. And you cheat Justice. You disobey institutions. Magnificent swindling. Nothing else.
Having as much chance of winning as you have hope of eating a fish that is in the sea and waiting to be fried on a pan that you have put on fire, and you walk away as if you have the victory in your pocket. I hug you, my Shege, because all the bees have fled from your hive, and all the magnificent cells have evaporated from your brain.
You have turned Albania several times into a magnificent hell where the scum cries, shame sits, madness dances, infidelity wreaks havoc, hope has disappeared, the future has fled. As an idealistic democrat in this country, you have nothing to do. Get out of sight and out of mind. Or stay in this absurd theater. Laugh until you fill the sky with screams. Be disgusted until you vomit a river. Cry until you fill a sea with tears, for the life that has passed away, seeing this magnificent grave as your cradle.
Happening now...
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