Top 10 Spambot Comments To Har For

Spambots and interwebz tards daily bombard this blog, based on key word searches and mental illness. Some are funny. The Engrish in many is amazing. Filth was deleted, except the unseemly first word below.

1. Cum See Our Hot teenage Babes (which is a tease, a link, filth, a link, slutty, a link… for 1,000 words… Must be from Miley Cyrus.)
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TSA, hookers to battle terrorists and prostate cancer

Harried and abused TSA staff have threatened to walk off the job following nation-wide “opt-out” protests, but Big Sis says she’ll have the nation’s flank covered if there is a strike.

“We’ve been in contact with the unions representing prostitutes at all major centers across America. We are confident that with intense training, these professionals can keep terrorists from boarding a plane. After all, who better to conduct enhanced pat-downs and cavity searches than hookers who do this for a living, and frequently at rates upwards of $500 an hour,” said Homeland Security head Janet Napolitano.

And in a surprise move, TSA announced that it has been working closely with the Department of Health and Human Services on a new Obamacare joint initiative. TSA staff are being cross-trained to check passengers for hidden explosives and prostrate cancer at the same time.
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TSA Named in Class-action Paternity Suit

The TSA has been named in a class-action paternity suit after thousands of airline passengers fell pregnant following enhanced pat downs at major U.S. airports.

“Because of media coverage, we knew that TSA staff were groping and neck-licking passengers, but we only recently learned how far they were going in the name of ‘national security’,” according to the American Civil Liberties Union.

The ACLU began receiving reports of mass impregnations in September, and last month it began widespread DNA testing of pregnant passengers.

“The TSA’s fingerprints are all over it, if you know what we mean,” the ACLU said.
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Emergency TSA Staff Meeting – Washington, D.C.

Wallace Fiendster TSA Section Chief:

I’d like to thank all TSA staff for attending this meeting, either in person here in Washington, D.C., or via teleconference from right around our great nation. I know that Homeland Security Secretary Janet Napolitano a few opening comments before we open the floor to questions. Janet…
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Topple the TSA! A sure fire 10-point protest

Americans are outraged at the TSA’s groping, fondling and neck-licking – and that’s in the travel agent’s office.

Here are 10 ways to go all Gandhi and peacefully topple the TSA regime by Christmas.

TSA Protest Actions

1. Men, remember Cool Runnings? The Jamaican bobsledder who kept his lucky egg tucked under his scrotum? Henceforth, all male flyers should carry two grade A eggs in their scrotums. Won’t that be fun when the TSA scans them? Better yet, when an enhanced pat-down breaks them, yoke starts drooling down your legs, and you scream in pain, “Auuuggghhhh! You’ve broken my testicles.”
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Memo to Cowboys Owner Jerry Jones: Here’s your Top 10 shortlist for head coaching job

Dear Jerry,

You’ll need another head coach come January 2, after the crumpled body of Jason Garrett is carried off the field in a ball bag. Here’s our shortlist:

1. Mel Gibson – Get him all likkered up and, woa, the dead men walking in Cowboys uniforms will get all kinds of fired up or be eaten alive by Mel and his savage pack of divorce lawyers.

2. Luis Urzua – the last man out of the Chilean mine. Why? Two reasons. First, if he could get three dozen men trapped underground for nine weeks to pull together, he can get 22 players to pull together for nine games. Second, and more importantly, he has access to the mine shaft, and would know how to cram Jerry into the “down elevator”.

3. Dr. Phil – The poor Cowboys must be absolutely traumatized by their bitter experience of going 1-7 and losing the chance to play in Super Bowl XLV. With enough foot massages and aromatherapy, I’m sure Dr Phil can get the Cowboys back on track. Once the girls on defense quit crying.
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Dallas Cowboys Owner: ‘I promise we’ll be playing in the Super Bowl, my boy, just listen to old Jerry’

The mood at JerryDome was somber. Like at a funeral. For a child who died a needless death.

Coach Wade Phillips was staring blankly into space. The ghost of Tom Landry paced back and forth in the corner, his hat bobbing up and down.

Suddenly, Jerry Jones came crashing through the door, smiling like a lunatic, eyes big as saucers.

“Wade ol’ buddy. The Cowboys are going to the Super Bowl,” Jerry said.

“Whut?” asked Wade, as he fell to his knees and kissed Jerry’s SB XXX ring.
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