Upon seeing on the CSPAN that the nation's stupid Don't Ask, Don't Tell policy regarding gays in the military had been overturned on Saturday, the Rude Pundit celebrated in the old way: by inviting a bunch of queer soldiers from every branch (even the Coast Guard) over to Casa de Rude for tequila, ecstasy, and more blow jobs and fingering than in the parking lot of your high school after the junior prom. By the detritus left behind, he knew it had been quite the celebration, even if his only memories involve repeatedly hearing orgasmic cries of "Hoo-ah" and watching a lesbian couple slow dance as a third sang, "Off we go into the wild blue yonder." On Sunday morning, the Christmas tree was festooned with empty condom wrappers, the three wise men in the Nativity were positioned as if they were fucking the camels and donkeys, the nutcracker's mouth was stuck shut, the poinsettia was uprooted, and the pantsless Marine still asleep in the tub had mistletoe tied to rest just below his belly button. A splendid Yuletide festival, indeed.
Glad ya had a good time. Hope ya din't sign anything, Pvt/SR/AB Rude-y. Heh.
Much, much more.
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