You know what, Stuart, I LIKE YOU. You're not like the other
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people, here, in the trailer park.
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Oh, don't go get me wrong. They're fine people, they're
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good Americans. But they're content to sit back, maybe
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watch a little Mork and Mindy on channel 57, maybe kick
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back a cool, Coors 16-ouncer. They're good, fine people,
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Stuart. But they don't know ... what the queers are doing
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to the soil!
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You know that Jonny Wurster kid, the kid that delivers papers
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in the neighborhood. He's a foreign kid. Some of the neighbors
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say he smokes crack, but I don't believe it.
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Anyway, for his tenth birthday, all he wanted was a Burrow Owl.
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Kept bugging his old man. "Dad, get me a burrow owl. I'll never
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ask for anything else as long as I live." So the guy
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breaks down and buys him a burrow owl.
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Anyway, 10:30, the other night, I go out in my yard, and there's
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the Wurster kid, looking up in the tree. I say, "What are
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you looking for?" He says "I'm looking for my burrow owl."
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I say, "Jumping Jesus on a Pogo Stick. Everybody knows
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the burrow owl lives. In a hole. In the ground. Why the hell do you
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think they call it a burrow owl, anyway?" Now Stuart, do you
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think a kid like that is going to know what the queers are
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doing to the soil?
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I first became aware of this about ten years ago, the summer
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my oldest boy, Bill Jr. died. You know that carnival comes into
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town every year? Well this year they came through with a ride
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called The Mixer. The man said, "Keep your head, and arms, inside
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the Mixer at all times." But Bill Jr, he was a DAAAREDEVIL, just
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like his old man. He was leaning out saying "Hey everybody,
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Look at me! Look at me!" Pow! He was decapitated! They found
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his head over by the snow cone concession.
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A few days after that, I open up the mail. And there's a pamphlet
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in there. From Pueblo, Colorado, and it's addressed to Bill, Jr.
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And it's entitled, "Do you know what the queers are doing to our
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soil?"
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Now, Stuart, if you look at the soil around any large US city,
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there's a big undeground homosexual population. Des Moines, Iowa,
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for an example. Look at the soil around Des Moines, Stuart.
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You can't build on it; you can't grow anything in it. The government
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says it's due to poor farming. But I know what's really going on,
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Stuart. I know it's the queers. They're in it with the aliens.
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They're building landing strips for gay Martians, I swear to
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God.
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You know what, Stuart, I like you. You're not like the other
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people, here in this trailer park.
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-----------------
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Stuart
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The Dead Milkmen |