Morals are for pussies. It’s what the Europeans with their socialism and their tiny defense budgets care about. Power. That’s what I respect. And you know what? Maybe I like bad boys. Maybe tough guys turn me on.
Japan’s wristlet purse rattled all the way to the coffee bar. “Double shot, please,” she told the machine. It whirred to life and soon a steaming shot of bean water was filling a mug. She fetched a pill pouch from her purse. It had to be holding at least a dozen different pills in all…
Keep dreaming, trashboy.
Mexico was not North Korea. In fact, they probably didn’t even look the same naked. But Cuba wouldn’t know because she’d never seen what was underneath North Korea’s perfectly pressed, gray suits. If she had, she wouldn’t be sitting next to Mexico then, sticky leather seats beneath them and an expanse of constellations above.
On America’s birthday, England “fondly” remembers the “best” memories of his “son.”
And the eagle will fly, man, it’s gonna be hell.
America, you ignorant slut.
North Korea and China chat about the summit. Meanwhile, America celebrates a win.
America remembers five of his past romantic relationships and how he completely ruined them.
This is a story of fervor and pain,
of two lovers in political chains.