I HATE YOU PAGE 203

Toolshed Troll upholds truth and justice in aisle six of the Habib Mart. Speaking of toolsheds, I'm getting really close to finishing mine. All I gotta do is buy some new shingles and fix the leaking roof and the foundation problem and rebuild some of the walls and it will be ready.

I caught this bulbheaded jock jockey hanging around outside my porch. Luckily he fell into my tape trap, rendering his misshapen arms and legs even less functional then they previously were. Then I pushed him into my "board with a bunch of nails hammered through it" trap, which is a board with a bunch of nails hammered through it.

Oh how sweet, three dogs laying together.

BURN THE BED! FALL BACK AND RETREAT!

This cretin is older than the library he haunts. I remember kicking the shit out of this festering bozo back during World War I when we were stationed on recon patrol in Ukraine. Today I took a little step back in history by kicking the shit out of him while being stationed in the Dewey Decimal System. Speaking of which, I can't find jack shit in that stupid Dewey Decimal System, they should just put books in alphabetical order like us normal patriotic Americans do, not this metric system crap from Europe. The only good thing about Europe is that it's really the hell far away from me.

There's so many goddamn things wrong with this picture that I think my eyes are about to explode and shower my coffee table with eyejuice. And I fucking hate eyejuice!

"HOOOOOONNK! KILL ME! HOOOOOOONK!"

502 Bad Gateway

502 Bad Gateway


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