I Hate You Page 161

Ryan Parker practices his cat-fucking position.

"ROWWWWRRRR! How the hell would you know what a cat-fucking position looks like, you brain addled shitsock? RAWWWRRR!"

Don't fucking start with me, Uglycat, or I'll jam a pair of knitting needles into your Godless eyesockets.

"ROWWWWRRRR! Bring it on, you fat old fuck! RAWWWRRR!"

"I'm thinking of a number between 1 and 1000."

Gah, fuck that, her bloated skull is so huge, I bet she's thinking of EVERY goddamn number between 1 and 1000.

: He used to command a spaceship... now he can barely command his bowels. Oh poor, poor little Captain Ham Salad.

: Her family calls her "Elizabeth." I call her "The Human Bottle Opener." I once had a globe like that one in the background. I think some little shit down the street stole it when I had a garage sale. I think he's the same moron who took the head off my garden hose out back. If I ever catch that filthy little SOB, I'm going to light her body on fire and FedEx it to NAMBLA.

: JACKASS ON LEFT: Getting the power up.

MENTAL MIDGET ON RIGHT: Winning the game.

HANDSOME VET BEHIND THE COUCH: Reloading the shotgun.