LA Weekly Now Forcing Hot College Girls to Dress in Sultry DC and Marvel Comic Costumes, Have Hot Steamy Fights in the Street and then Upload the Photos to Facebook
As much as that title is long the debauchery stands stiff and tall into today’s look at America’s newest Sin Rag, L.A. Weekly.
Staffed by a troop of defunct, drug-tingling comic writers for College Humor and a few beatnik beachside degenerates working for coffee and a cot to get of the street, L.A. weekly is a new slag rag that boosts its sales by lusty skin exposures and shock jock headlines. Today, the front page story has mothers crying and fathers wondering if their daughters will be the latest babydaddyless Baby Momma squirming her neck around in Standaysha fashion on Jerry Springer.
I’m black so you cannot call me racist.
My heart was so shocked and sickened to thumb through L.A. weekly today at the behest of Jack Gould, while our senior fellow Thad Connely is out on assignment. Thad has tracked this trend of college girls Dressing in Sexy Batman Costumes and Attending Tight Rump Costume Anime Con-fests and then being forced to upload the images of all their sticky desire to Facebook, where anonymous strangers and college children leave lewd comments and force the girls to rinse, lather and repeat, all on camera.
WARNING: Shock and awe of morality awaits. Demand all wives and children immediately leave the room, firmly closing the door behind them. Fervently engage in prayer before laying eyes upon these spine-tingling images from LA Weekly. Immorality is afoot and Satan shakes his mane in delight for the crass carnality in these images, sites that has given a concussion to every young man’s soul who was unwillingly forced to see their friends dressed like this as they thumbed through Facebook.
With eyes glossier than a 3am Mexican cheering “Viva la Mota!” on Martin Luther King Blvd, The Storm shocks the crowd with a busty top and leatherwork that forces all onlookers to have unnatural feelings in the groin region. That’s the hand of Satan reaching into the pants, causing everyone to be jolted with impossible thoughts of an Ebony River Goddess of Egyptian lore taking to the sky and shooting lighting from her tensed hands as her bold thighs seductively emerge, power-rich, for a costume that can barely contain the raging storm of passion and ecstatic release found only in her deepest tempest.
Marvel Comics is so perverted for plying the minds of our children with such imagery and thoughts in every comic. Then we have the carnal club executive diamond members at LA Weekly encouraging it all. They ask where has morality gone in media: do we really need to look any further?
The Supermark of Chestsins
Superman is the fantastical story of a Jewish Sky Jesus who can shoot fire from his eyes and do barrel-rolls to delight the crowds of the sky, then goes home every night to don kryptonite firmware so he can wear out the backside of a news reporter in unwed bliss.
Perhaps this is why a writer at LA Weekly who goes by the screen name SiMOAN on Facebook has pulled a rarely seen Lilith-fair carpetbagger trick and promote Superman’s incestuous cousin Powergirl in this shocking image.
Lilith-faire lesbianism is the ugly, socialist stepsister of Laissez-faire and only recognizes one currency: clams. Every lesbian on Earth is a clamdabbler and there is no exception for this Power Girl character in comics. For everything the feminist Wonder Woman stands for, Power Girl is twice as worse.
At least Superman is branded with a giant S for supersin, this girl is so raunchy that when we go to look for the distinguishing sinbrand, we find only voluptuous mammalian ludicrosities forcing us to think all sorts of unnatural things that just are not right. Just imagine the weak minds of those still in college, late night study sessions and Facebook pokes updated by wall uploads such as this.
Friends, there is nothing moral about comic books. Each comic book page is a slice right out of Satan’s diary and know this, Satan is hungry.
Satan’s soul is diabetic and the only sugar that can cure him is the sweet innocence of your daughter’s virgin soul. Oh, believe, the Big Bad Wolf wants a taste of daddy’s little sweetheart’s holy pie. He has no manners and will take slice after slice until it is all gone and rotting in his bellies: just look at the welfare line of mother’s with babies in one arm.
There was a time and place when their parents thought comics could not corrupt, but you can be now, that their daughters had to drop out of high school that they only wished they would have taken heed and blocked this filth. Let’s not even talk about all the college boys who have to drop out and work at the Foodmart just to pay child support. Really a great fate for the future of America, ey?
LA Weekly is not done. They are still uploading pictures to their little blog from this sinfest as we speak and they have promised to deliver deadly poison for their next imagery. Take a look and weep, America, for this is what the ‘new media’ is turning your children into. Comical skin exposers.
And only the full belly laughs of Satan’s pie-laden belly can be heard. Ho, ho, ho indeed.
Every study night will turn into Chemistry 101 Orgy night. How many stick term papers will be turned in this coming year with these sorts of images clouding up the internet.
Somewhere in the land of lore, there are stories of magnificent fish-like creatures called sirens. They would sing and sing, until brave captains of yesteryear would be drawn to their song and then yearn to get finned in a raunchy fest of tuna-scented seaside maritime.
The harrowing stories of salty-ocean lore is for another time, but today’s focus is LA Weekly and Marvel Comics. Mystique is a character who can ‘shape-shift’, that is, take the form of any person. This must be the ultimate fantasy of the gay community, having the power to trick any unsuspecting person into a bugging roger from behind or back. Mystique is to innocence as fire is to wood: deadly. It will leave the worst of carpet burns for your daughters to even read about this character, the writing is so vivid and full of Frank Miller whore whore whore artwork that your girls will think nothing better of themselves than to do whatever sexual fantasies their friends demand.
It is really a sad fate: dressing up on skin-tight Lycra, the spandex slowly rubbing and churning over thighs becoming overheated, yearning to be released for just a second to expose tanned, taut flesh whose trickling sweat cools in the sun-kissed breeze of the dissipating day. Then, lust and passion collide from the thoughts of what this character is all about: shapeshifting. A writhing orgy of bodies and skins from all cultures and sizes take place wherever this character makes an appearance. LA Weekly naturally knew this fate. I wish we could see the stats, because I bet there was at least a 5% increase in STD after this costume made an appearance at the Costume-con street fight.