I HATE YOU PAGE 182

Oh hooray, a trio of idiots fashioned from leopards. A classic case of being beaten in the ass by the food chain. I hope the Salvation Army doesn't mind having their bargain bin swiped.

Sludge McGee's Sliding Crapshoot of Failure circus sideshow performs for a standing ovation.

The new Retard Enclosure Park is an instant success. It drew quite a crowd watching these two shitgobs attempt to molest each other's heads before I set the whole thing on fire and pushed it into Lake Gargahedron.

Miss Appleton 2001. Since the winner of this prestigious competition always wanted to be on TV, I obliged him / her / it by shoving their head through the back of Frank Constellete's Panasonic. Fucking Jap crap broke on the 15th ramming. American TVs don't break that easily. I bought a GE TV in 1939 and it still works today and picks up every channel and cable and satellite and computers and The Titty Channel.

The last known sighting of Richard Davison, taken as I heaved his greasy ass over his balcony rail. If they ever get the impacted skull fragments out of his brain he'll think twice before driving on my fucking gravel right after it rained. That gravel is brand fucking new and it wasn't cheap, and it needs to settle properly. NOBODY fucking walks on my gravel until it's settled, got it? That includes you crustfucked spitshits.

Captain Cookiedough and Darth Driplip disembark from their hyperspace rocket-plane to conquer all of the Dennys on Earth. The pie there stinks. I got a chocolate creme pie slice and there was a goddamn contact lens in it!!! I complained to the waitress but by that time she could understand me because I was holding her head in the grease trap and kicking at the busboys and I noticed that they fill their Heinz ketchup bottles in the back with Hunts ketchup and that's probably illegal or something. I'm going to write a goddamn letter to 60 Minutes as soon as I get my typewriter out of the bathtub.