America’s Odessa-descent treasurer with ‘TWO-YUGE-BALLS’ and a deficit…

Below is a parody of Mr Hitler, just a parody, jolly good show old chaps…

Here’s an interesting story about the day I’d met a dead man, along with several others also presumed dead, and one that was meant to be locked up in Spandau but wasn’t, that was his lobotomised cousin ~ It’s an interesting (True) story but sadly unlike America’s Sept 11 Odessa Coup D’Etat, it’s true so it doesn’t have a single Islamic Cessna Pilot flying a commercial jet in it, nor does it have a jet knocking down a skyscraper, how could it, see as I’ve said, it’s a true story…

The story of the day I-met a dead man continues at the bottom…

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Don’t forget to wake-me early the day America repents of lying…

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Okay, here’s just a short interlude before my dead man story…
It’s here to get you thinking America, you think you can do that?
Ooh go-on, try, try really hard, go-on, don’t stress it, just try…

Don’t forget, no matter how many they killed, smile…

The author, smiling, just…

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Now to that story, the true story of the day I-met a dead man…

The first time I’d met a (Supposedly) dead Nazi was Benito Mussolini in the early 1960’s, obviously that wasn’t him the Partisans hung sans-genitals in Italy, it was just a double, a dupe, a fall guy to make good the escape, the second time I’d met a dead Nazi was Odessa General Adolph Eichmann, again obviously the man captured in Argentina and taken to Israel to be tried and hung was also another dupe, another fall guy to make good the escape, both of those crossed my path often in the 60’s and occasionally in the 70’s, always in the company of ‘CIA’ by the way, then I’d met a supposedly jailed Deputy Fuhrer several times, all of this went down in the Australian backwater city of Adelaide, a ratline Nazi redoubt to rival Argentina, then the third time I’d met a (Supposedly) dead Nazi it was none other than the man himself, Mister One Testicle, Adolf bloody Hitler in the company of twin or half brother, a man called “Schreck” ~ Truth be told the old Fuhrer looked haggard, worn down, moody, even depressed in a way tho still with a measure of what I’d assessed as either a sad somewhat determined attitude of resignation or else some sort of fatalistic desperately-stoic resolve…

Whoever was really running that show had let the old man’s health deteriorate, he was in a bad way while his half brother or twin or whatever “Schreck” was all annoyingly bright eyed and chipper as the Pom’s put it, the old Fuhrer had something to tell me, something about my situation being cactus, hopeless was the meaning he was trying to portray, he implied I’d just have to get thru things as best I’d be able and should fight for my identity and freedom, now that really used to annoy me when people would advise me to do things I’d already been doing for a decade or two, but anyway ~ He went on to say that a bequest had been made but stated that it would be stolen from me, he’d said there wasn’t much I’d be able to do about it, coming from a man who looted every ounce of European gold he could lay his hands on that’s kind of Quixotic words in a way, but anyway, those indeed were his words ~ He implied those who hated him were seeking to harm me and although somewhat drugged at the time on whatever ‘CIA’ had administered, and they were always administering something, that made me smile, to be more specific it made the little devil within smile because they’d been hating on me from the very day I’d been born, Eichmann himself had delivered me and my twin sister by Caesarean before literally torturing me, a newborn, a fact many others in their circle confirmed ~ Anyway, short story Reader’s Digest version, that’s the day I’d met a dead man, not too long after that the man America wrongly thinks of as George Herbert Walker Bush forced me to sign some legal papers at gunpoint, when I’d ignored the .22 auto he was holding and stepped in at 115 kilo with the intention of beating him until my arms tired, which could’ve taken a good 10 minutes as fit as I’d been, he stepped back in panic and said “We’ve got your (Step) Mom” which indeed they did, her death had been faked a few years before that and Odessa did indeed have her, so the fists didn’t fly, the paper’s were signed, the German born fake lived to be America’s illegal 41st president after running Odessa’s Nazi gold Reaganomics asset strip of America, then became Titular Bavarian Illuminati Masonic head in 1993 and held that position up until 2005 meaning he ran all of the top down backroom Masonic shit on Sept 11, and there’s the true story of the day I’d met a dead man…

That’s the truth, tho not the whole truth, yet it’s nothing but the truth…

So fcuk you Washington, fcuk you…

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For fair-use x fair-comment and light entertainment principles…
So hit this link ‘HERE’ if you want all the pure socio-political bits…
‘THIS-LINK’ will also challenge you with well thought out facts…
Still no practical real-world support? ~ You bloody morons…

PS: Where’s the original Trump America?