A large group of gay and tranny redittors geared up and flew to Ukraine to fight Russkies …
…and provide “friendly and intimate companionship” to the AZOV SS battalions
After being safely ensconced in their hotel with their hot pink guns…(really)…
…they set about taking reddit selfies in dresses, posing with their very gay gear and guns, live-streaming to gay sites and their trans antifa slugs back in the states…
…the Ukrainian government accidentally fired a cruise missile into their hotel and wiped it and their little pink tutus, out.
Of course, this too is being blamed on Russia.
Makes perfect sense. You can’t have a hundred gay princesses with guns realizing there are no Russians on the ground and security on the operation would have been broken right off. The little sweethearts would have live streamed all day about wild sex at night with angry fascists and spending the day hunting the mythical unicorn Russian soldier. They would have blown the whole story wide open.
They had to go…
…from the strategic, NWO point of view.
And with that, here’s a little song Eric Idle wrote in the mid seventies, the Ballad of Sir Robin, a Knight of the Round Table. I changed it somewhat.
————————
Bravely bold Sir redittor, rode forth from USA.
He was not afraid to die, O Brave Sir redittor.
He was not at all afraid to be killed in nasty ways.
Brave, brave, brave, brave Sir redittor!
He was not in the least bit scared to be mashed into a pulp,
Or to have his eyes gouged out, and his elbows broken.
To have his kneecaps split, and his body burned away,
And his limbs all hacked and mangled, brave Sir redittor!
His head smashed in and his heart cut out,
And his liver removed and his bowels unplugged,
And his nostrils raped and his bottom burned off,
And his penis…
Brave Sir redittor blown away.
Bravely blown away, away!
When danger reared its ugly head,
His selfies made sure that he was bled.
Yes, brave Sir redittor turned about
And watched his intestines fall out.
Bravely taking to his feet
He beat a very brave retreat,
Bravest of the brave, Sir redittor!
He is packing it in and packing it up
And sneaking away and buggering up
And chickening out and pissing off home,
Yes, bravely he is throwing in the sponge…
