I HATE YOU PAGE 105

One of the 500-foot tall (and 500-foot wide) mutant creatures from South Appleton escapes and prepares to destroy San Francisco! Good riddance. I've never been to San Francisco, but I hear it contains almost as many freakshows as Appleton City. Somehow I doubt that.

Ugh, no thanks, I just ate.

Judging by the rolls DJ Marmalade is tucking away under that circus tent of a shirt, it's safe to guess she just ate too. Next thing she'll be eating is my fist while it goes through her bulbous skull. I'm a sensitive, New Age kinda guy - I don't discriminate against Appleton wastebags just because they have tits that look like bloated ticks. I hate you all.

Horrifying scenes like this were common during the Great Garbage Strike of '98. The union bastards at the garbage company wouldn't pick up the trash for weeks, so every time I drove down my street I saw crap like this rotting away on people's curbs. Eventually I got sick and tired of looking at it, so I poured gasoline all over it and lit it on fire and pushed it into the creek. Maybe that's why the water has been tasting shitty ever since.

"Scabby" Perkins desecrates the manly act of smoking. As you can tell by his malformed mug, I've taken the liberty of extinguishing a few cartons of cigarettes on his greasy head. When will the morons ever learn?

The Compost Express Wagon stops by the McKinely's Farm every weekend. Is it dropping off or picking up? I don't know, but I sure as hell ain't getting within 50 yards of that pale crock of crap riding in it.



"ROWWWWWRRR! ALL YOUR BUFFET ARE BELONG TO US!! ROAAWWWWWWRRRR!"