What is a real woman?
Ask any man this question and they might each retort with their own unique description of who,what, and why. So many men. So many women. So many flavors of kool-aid in the GREAT BIG PUNCHBOWL of life. Since an awful lot of men seem to try and pretend that their dangling particle functions as a second brain, they tend to believe that a real woman is nothing more than a pretty face and a wax mound of milk duds. Most men wouldn't know a real woman if she gargled their peter salt and spit it back out onto a pot pie while they have their backs turned.
I am not most men though. I am the gitche manitou. Oh great spirit. I know my shit and I know my women. Believe it. Women are a dime a dozen. Inflation doesn't relegate itself in the bosom, ya know. But between rocks and hard places and nooks and crannies and spinsters and rabid grannies, if one searches high and low they will find the gemstone being locked away in a smelly butterfly jar, hidden from the imbeciles and insinceres of the peni kingdom.
I searched far and deep and wide and long and short and big and tall and small and behind the wall and after many thousand years of diligence and groaning noises, my patience and crusted black heart was awarded the grand prize of girlish ghoulishness. I found the sickest,sweetest,filthiest,sexiest, and most deliciously vile, in the best possible way, woman that has ever womaned in the entire history of womanhood. Filthy Regan.
You might have seen the way she regurgitates and levitates and said to yourself that you wish to get her or get with her and the only thing that you need to know right here and right now is this.... you'll never get her and you'll never get with her unless you just happen to be in an elevator with her at the same time, and should this ever happen do know that you are in for one hell of a ride and your pansy ass should have taken the stairs.
Filthy Regan is a true woman in every sense of the sense and hygiene. She is FILTHY. With ALL caps and not just an F. When she levitates she not only ascends that sexy pea crusted body of hers. She moves me, that woman does.
She levitates in the room and then flies straight into my heart every single time. Her skin is so sweetly vile it sends shivers down my tiny spine and makes me flail my stumps with ghastly delight. The way her flesh crackles and peels, it's a filth lovers dream come true and turned into a malodorous nightmare. Nobody can spew profanity with the flair and repulsive grace of my filthy one. I particularly love it when she talks dirty to me, and believe me when I say that no one can do it up like my Reganator. She is a filth machine that spews non-stop when any other woman would only just be getting warmed up. She once said "your mother sucks cocks in hell". Who can top such grimey charisma? If anybody else had said that to me I'd have to bust their ass bone, but when my goddess of gore driblets says it, she just drives me into a sludge fueled frenzy and it makes me want to rip that rancid nightgown right off of her. Oh, and that nightgown..... the way she never allows it to touch soap and filtered water and it just collects mildew and disease.... I am doing the midget moonwalk just thinking about all that cotton and decay.
Most people misunderstand her because she is widely known for her pea soup propelling propensity and outpouring of pot syrup onto padres. That is what a real woman does though. She is making a statement of defiled dissent and that statement is often obscured because people are idiots who ignore the truth in lieu of believing that penguins are cute and incapable of harm. But they fight evil, and what good is to be found in that? Evil is the only good thing that this planet can ever school and drool us.
I have to tell you that when I saw Filthy Regan vomit on that priest I got all sparkly and gitche inside. I encourage such eruptions. When we are alone and rolling in the filthy bedsheets of our GREAT BIG BED I elicit sounds of joy whenever I hear her make that gurgling sound like a backed up garbage disposal. I know what is coming. The fluids of true love.
I also enjoy it when we have company over and she squats on the carpet and lets loose a fury of girlish pee that is incomparable in this world of wonder and worth. An average woman would excuse herself and slip away quietly to a room that contains a porcelain waste basket and then wash up after operating her feminine dumptruck. But not my Filthy Regan. She squats and rots and it bestills my very soul. Nobody exudes pea and pee quite like my demigurgle. So beautifully crusty, deliciously gooey, and disgustingly elegant. She is my BFFSM. Best friend forever and soulmate. Just so you know.
When compared to my princess of pea, other woman just seem so ridiculous to me. Even when they try and front like they are possessed by the devil. It's a pointless act that just seems so desperately drab that it is more yawning than fawning. Nobody rocks this skanky dance hole like Filthy Regan. Other women wish they could be as filthy as she. They spittle some dribble and spout some gibberish, but it's no match for spewing and stewing like a pro. These shitty wanna-be ho-bitches don't even know what pea soup is anymore. Now they use cream corn or french onion soup and this is all just.... vomitous... that is, if vomitous was a bad thing.
I saw a movie once called Beyond the door. That lady tried so hard to be filthy but she just wasn't cutting it. She threw a plate of flan at the ceiling to impress some kids. Come on people, get real! FLAN? Are you kidding me? A real woman would have pulled out a blade and given those little brats some severed lady fingers. But flan? gee, I guess she was all out of parfait or ambrosia salad. Real filthy choice of feed there.
Maybe the audience thought that was terrifying though. People are idiots. They don't have audiences like they used to. I remember when my honey pop of pea plop first came on the screen in 1973. People were passing out and spewing in the aisles. Now that is spirit. Some people even ran from the theaters. Bastards. They don't know style when they see it. I hope they were all hit by cars. It's people like this that ruined my sweet-ick-ums life story when they tried to re-release it many years later.
The film makers were trying to scare up some more box office for the movie and being reminded of the popularity of the olympics they decided it would be cool to have some gymnastics in there. But gymnastics are not filthy. Satan would never do jumping jacks or push ups and neither would Filthy Regan. That is why they had to hire a stunt double to film that shit, because my girl had class and enough sense to refuse to do that scene. Imagine that, a stunt filthy person. You can't fake filth. Just sayin'.
That was a moronic marketing ploy and I still cringe to this day if anybody ever brings it up. So, get this through your heads people.... that gymnastics thing was not Filthy Regan. Oh, but shoving the crucifix into her glory hole..... yeah now, that was my girl. God, I love her so.
You would never see someone do that type of thing now. Shoving Jesus into their filthy bread closet. Nobody would have the gumption or make the extra effort these days because people are too busy spying Jesus in their oatmeal or in their Rice Chex to give him a real work-out.
I just don't understand why they even bother making these shitty retreads and thinking there will ever be another like my filthy filthster. No woman can ever compare to Filthy Regan. Even the devil knows this. But the people that make movies will never learn. They just did this new movie called The Last Exorcism. Let us indeed hope that this is the last one because I'm getting tired of making phonecalls and soiling billboards to get the word out that nobody.... no how .... Hell, high water, or even pea soup flood will ever be able to hold a stick of dirty dynamite to the mistress of mire herself..... Filthy Fucking Regan. It's not going to happen.
So to Hollywood, I say this..... please save all of your money for facelifts and vanity lumps and handjobs or maybe make some more movies with robots and trolls in the cast because these things tend to work dirt cheap as opposed to filthy cheap. Leave Satan and his fellow demonic co-horts to fester in their flaming bed rests before you try and put pea soup in a bedpan instead of where it belongs. On the priests remember? Not in them or around them or dribbling down the chin of some swamp rat claiming possession by the dark master. On the priests. Preferably directly in their faces.
Oh, and who or what is Ablahamdam supposed to be? That is a demon? Not any demon that I have ever heard of. Where did you get that one? Did you pull it out of the same book where you got the recipe for flan?
Enough with the exorcism movies already! Filthy Regan can not be contested. Although, if you are going to try at least try harder. This Last Exorcism nonsense just made me appalled to be a demon and when you are in fact a demon yourself this is not a compliment. My curious nature and love for a good enough horror flick always seems to get the best of me. Even when they churn out these shopping mall horror movies that are about as terrifying as Aunt Flo and her crimson bloomers.
This movie made me want to scream and yet, did not make me scream. I usually get what I want when I scream. So, if I do it loud enough and long enough..... will you just stop with the attempts to cash in on the reputation of my filthy maiden vat of hot gurgling pea-liscious-ness? I know I know.... I take this all so serious because I am biased. But come on.... did you see this movie? The girl doesn't even try at all to be filthy. She makes some water bubble with her stinky feet. If her feet are so filthy how come she is seen wearing shoes? Go barefoot bitch. Oh, and that nightgown you were wearing.... don't make me laugh. There wasn't a stain on it. No, blood doesn't count!
This girl was hideous in the most non-hideous sense of the word. She licks the side of a camera ladies arm. Anybody knows that if you are really filthy you lick the underarm and only after you have confirmed the absence of soap for a good 2-3 days. But this girl is no moll of mulch just because she claims to have been impregnated by one of Jerry's star kids.
She lets loose a modest dribble of spittle of some kind. Looked to be cream corn and I won't even go into how disgraceful this is to the realm of all that is filthy again. She stabs a hillbilly in the face and bludgeons a cat. Hillbillies have been pointless since that banjo thing and dogs are better than cats anyway. Everybody knows this. Hello! Hounds of Hell, remember?
She draws some pictures and spouts some gibberish because people seem to think that drawing and spouting gibberish are what us filthy and evil types do. This is mixed up though as it is only what retarded people do. Please get your facts straight. We don't dribble or spittle either. We spew. She also made some baby noises. This confused me greatly. Oh, and what was with trying to drown the dirty babydoll? Dirty babydolls are on our side, remember?
They chain her to a bed. Are you kidding me? Filthy Regan wouldn't stand for this one bit. Besides chains can not contain real evil or filth. More lies and hypocrisy. Demons do not play the flute either. Oh, and here we go again with the gymnastics..... that linebacker move, the scarecrow dance.... contortions.... back bends..... the splits..... funny faces.... clowns do these things, not demons. Oh, and come on really.... a blowing job? It's called a blowjob girlie, and you don't ever offer one to a priest unless you're an altar boy. Know your history.
While we're at it, painting pentagrams all over the house is kind of 1970's gauche too. Maybe that seems cool to some of those little 12 year old mallrats who think that Living Color is a real black metal band and that if you step on a crack you actually will break your mothers humpback. But graffiti only works in civil domain and not rural housing. As movies go, this one sucks shit through a slurpee straw and as being filthy goes this girl fails miserably in all the most pristine ways of being miserable.
This apparently will have to be the hundred and first time that I will say this stuff, but movies regarding possession by demonic forces are never going to better The Exorcist and women who think that filth and being a real woman is about going a few hours without washing your twat and having some dribble down your chin just need to accept that they will never be as glorious and filthy as Filthy Regan.
Filthy Regan is filth squared. But with style. She spews and goos and dirties it up and flies across the room with a grace that is unrivaled. I know what some of you are thinking. You wish to mock me and my amorous feculence by reminding me about that lady from the anti-christ. You know, the one who licked the inside of the goat's ass.
True, filth knows no boundaries, and while licking a goat's rectum is going to reserve her a first class ticket to the grungy bowl, I am the Gitche Manitou. I know filth and I know women. But first and foremost I am a manitou..... and this manitou ain't kissing no girl with goat bung on her breath.
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