Any individual with the slightest bit of passion for researching the intricate structure of the wonderful English Language would drop to his knees in reverence when he hears the two most important names associated with it- Noam Chomsky and Ferdinand De Saussure. These two unbeatable grammarians, unbeknownst to the outside world, were the ultimate curse word experimentalists of their times. Dipping their elbows in cooking butter for five hours straight interested them as well.

                 Sometime back I revealed to you a documentation of one of the dissing sessions that took place between these two great minds. The transcript showed the ingenuity and sharpness of their minds as well as the obvious camaraderie that existed between the two grammarians. It also showed how fucked up the two motherfuckers were. Today, I present to you the second of the many documents that I tediously acquired through a process as meticulous and as precise as the Parliamentary Elections. As always, both Saussure and Chomsky were sloshed to their skulls when they were delivering the priceless cursing seminars to each other. Ladies, Gentlemen, and that one transvestite in New Delhi- the “Chomsky-Saussure Filth Archives” Part II.

FROM THE CHOMSKY-SAUSSURE FILTH ARCHIVES PART II

NC: I don’t understand why I need to be here when you’re getting your wife maternity clothes, you hamburger filled with spit, erectile tissues, and liquid hemorrhoids!

FDS: Let’s see. Maybe it’s because you got her pregnant you menstrual blood drinking piece of dried up shit stuck to George Bernard Shaw’s hairy right buttock!

NC: She was the one who stood outside my door with her legs as wide as Barack Obama’s smile. What was I supposed to do? Not insert my giant penis into her salivating hole and thrust it so deep that when I ejaculated I could see my sperm floating around her epiglottis?

FDS: I have half a mind to go to your house right now, pull your wife off her bed, throw some steaming hot water onto her ass, wait for two days, and then have intercourse with the boils on her ass till it pops spraying bloody pus all over your bedroom!

NC: You have a better chance of embedding your genitals with Kellogg’s Cornflakes and then getting it sucked by Marie Antoinette’s severed head!

FDS: Stop running your mouth and help me choose some maternity clothes before I bend you into two, flip you upside down, stick a Mont Blanc pen between your ass cheeks widening your asshole, and puke into your anal cavity so heavily that it’ll come out through your nose and eyes!

NC: Not if I cut off the penises of your father and your uncle, stick them up your nostrils, fly you off to the North Pole, trick some polar bears into thinking you’re a walrus, and then get them to gang-sodomize you!

FDS: Give it a rest, or else I’ll abduct your mother, take her to the forest, staple her nipples twenty three times each, and then get Phantom (the Walking Ghost) to fist her so deep that his ring impression will be left on her lungs!

NC: You wouldn’t dare, you smelly fart that accompanied Queen Elizabeth’s first ever shit in a Scottish public toilet!

FDS: That’s what you think, you pungent phlegm mixed with antelope sperm that’s stuck inside the third head from the right of Lord Ravana.

NC: That’s what I know, you nonstop drinker of Coca Cola mixed with the milk squeezed out of Reverend Jesse Jackson’s tits.

FDS: Go to hell, you sterile queen bee that’s living in a hive built underneath Lord Xenu’s gigantic red balls.

NC (surprised): Lord Xenu? Who are you- Tom Cruise?

FDS (dropping the dress that he was holding): What did you call me?

NC (suddenly realizing what he had just done): Look, Ferdie…I…

FDS (angry): WHAT did you call me?

NC (fumbling): You know I would never…

FDS (wounded): But you did. Ugh! I can’t even look at you right now.

NC (guilty): I made a mistake…believe me I feel terrible…

FDS (almost teary-eyed): You know I’m already under a lot of stress what with you impregnating my wife and all. This is the last thing I wanted to hear. I’m hurt, Noam. I’m really hurt.

NC (completely guilty and ashamed): I give you my word it’ll never happen again.

FDS (turning away): There’s nothing you can do that’ll heal the wound.

NC (silent for a while): What if we go to the changing room and I massage your inner thighs?

FDS (instantly): Ok. Yeah, that might heal the wound.

NC: So you forgive me…?

FDS (smiling warmly): I forgive you buddy. Now let’s go get it on.

Advertisements