Dumber, Strike That, Crazier MFer Than Hank Williams Jr. Discovered, Updated With Moar F’d Uppedness

Bocephus may think the Kenyan Usurper is 50 shades of Hitler, but at least he never sent him Ricin, unlike, allegedly, “Master Of Impressions” Kevin Paul Curtis. Yes, the “Master Of Impressions,” a particularly disgruntled Elvis impersonator, is believed to have posted the castor bean-flecked envelopes that might have tainted the inboxes of a more than a few targets of his ire.

The more I checked out the versatile performer’s YouTube channel, the less I wanted to believe it myself. Really, who would want even fake Johnny Cash (below the jump) really languishing behind bars?

**UPDATE: Can this girl pick’em? via TPM:

So he sings about drunk driving nekkid and his ex says he’s delusional. The rest of my points still purtain, do they not?

Handing out teddy bears, a message from teddy recipient Mrs. Jean, a Merle Haggard fan—and a fan of yogidrasana, but what growing boy wouldn’t be—Kevin Curtis seems pretty much a straight-up sweetheart, although the chem-trails video he liked seems a sign of trouble. Well, and his liking a chemical factory explosion, though certainly not any less than the news outlets today.

Also too, he liked “What Twinkies Will Do To People”—POISON THEM? No, the vid turned out to be a few Twinkie-addicted teenagers horsing around before their parents got home, not a primer on how to destroy enemies through toxic stale Twinkie creme.

Unfortunately, the deadly letters in the possession of the FBI included the sentiment,  “I am KC and I approve this message.”  Not good. If only, if only, he’d sent out stale Twinkies instead!  We know, after all, how well the Twinkie defense works.

Posted by Mrs. Polly on 04/18/13 at 04:46 PM • Permalink

Categories: ImagesMessylaneousMusicMusic NewsPoliticsNuttersSkull Hampers

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I think the most fascinating thing to me is the “body parts conspiracy”, where he was innocently minding his own business finishing a floor in a hospital morgue, looked into a fridge, and discovered, to his horror, that there were dead body parts! In the morgue! Instead of Mountain Dew and Snapple, like regular folks have their fridges.  After expressing his concern, he was fired, and among other things, police were often on the same road as him, and city workers even picked up his trash.

There. Are. Words. I’m. Just. Not. Using. All. Of. Them.

Vixen, it really says something that what with the ricin and the Elvis hips and the chem-trails, I just didn’t get to the body parts conspiracy.

I would give the body part of your choice to get on that jury. It’s going to be a helluva voir dire, assuming he isn’t simply outfitted with a long-sleeved lamé jacket.

..a long sleeved lame’ jacket that has those same sleeves tied firmly in the back…

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