Instagram of the Day – My beloved Fidel

Gaby Chavez, daughter of dead Venezuelan dictator Hugo Chavez, traveled to Cuba to visit with the island’s undead dictator, Fidel Castro and posted this picture with comments on Instagram (my translation):

“On my return to The Island of the Giant, I had the honor of spending three hours sharing with my beloved Fidel, the comandante of all time. Together we relived the experiences and moments we spent with my beloved father.”

You can puke now.



9 thoughts on “Instagram of the Day – My beloved Fidel

  1. Wait, she actually talks this way? Is she a droid or what? And Fidel thinks, “Why is the maid talking to me?”

  2. Fidel looks like shit, and this girl sounds really, REALLY dense, or brainwashed. Of course, maybe she’s just following the script she figures is in her best interest.

  3. All of this is such bullshit. Its vomit inducing. I’m so sick and tired of seeing these constant pictures with castro supposedly talking to foreign dignitaries. A three hour conversation?! My foot! It’s obvious that castro is incapable of carrying on a normal conversation. So advanced is his senility that the regime has no choice, but to post pictures of him next to someone “talking” to him.

    The old fart looks confused. He probably doesn’t know who Chavez let alone his daughter.

  4. OK, I get it. She’s just being a proper “Latina,” like Cretina, Dilma, Bachelet and other Nosferatu bitches. Of course, there are also male Nosferatu bitches, tons of them. Like the Cuban novelist Alejo Carpentier once wrote in a different context, Fidel has effectively been “un Don Juan para machos.”

  5. OMG! Did Alejo Carpentier–the frenchified Cuban, or better put, the Frenchman who claimed to be Cuban–actually say that? I feel a little bit of vomit at the back of my throat. Excuse me while I retch!

    These regime sycophants are worst than courtiers at the palace of a Tudor king. Not even Edmund Spenser kissing up to Queen Elizabeth in his epic poem, the “Faerie Queene” was that obsequious! [sigh]

  6. “¿Y quIen eres tu mi hijita?” LOL!

    Look at the expression on her face. She’s like, “I can’t believe you don’t know who I am” And fifo is probably asking raul who’s probably off to the side of the picture [unseen]: quien es esta mulatica? Una jinetera?

  7. You know why these Latrines STILL kiss Nosferatu’s withered, senile ass? Because they’re so small and so shitty–tan poca cosa y tan mierdas–that they actually believe, or certainly hope, that it somehow elevates and distinguishes them, when all it does is sink them lower in the mire of their iniquity and confirm their perversity, vulgarity and essential worthlessness. In some cases, like Nicaragua’s Ortega, the Nosferatu worship is just the icing on the rancid cake, and relatively redundant–Ortega is a lower life form no matter how you slice it. In other cases, however, like Chile’s deceptively smarmy and ostensibly much more “respectable” Bachelet, the Nosferatu business is more telling and more useful–an indicator that something’s indeed rotten in Denmark. Latrines are essentially dysfunctional, and part of that pathology is to treat the dysfunction as virtue and persist in it, no matter how much or how badly it fucks things up. That’s the only reason a horrendous disaster like “revolutionary” Cuba is still not only condoned but held up as some sort of model. These people are sick.

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