I HATE YOU PAGE 169

I tried to return this shit back to its sender, but they wouldn't have anything to do with it. I ended up tossing his ass into the middle of the I-291. I gave him an umbrella so it'd be easier for the passing traffic to see him and run his ugly ass down.

Titty McRollsalot does the Forbidden Dance of Ecstasy for his Christmas card pictures. The only thing that bulbous ass explosion is getting this holiday is something ticking in an unmarked box. Or maybe that retard in the picture above this one, I dont know.

Charlie Hoover, one of the pathetic barflies at the Singing Canary on the corner of 19th and Redmond. This guy's the biggest goddamn lush you've ever seen. And before any of you smartasses write in and say "oh Cliff, but what about YOUR drinking problem?" let me just say that I dont got no drinking problem and I can quit whenever I want, so go slam a camel you braindead Iraqi pricks.

The argument FOR a Missile Defense System. If we don't get one of them, dildo-headed freakshows like THIS will be in charge of protecting us. I wouldn't trust this failed Muppet to guard my deodorant, much less country.

John Glensdale tastes some of ol Cliffy's homebrewed urine samples. I think that one was enriched by the power of asparagus that I had the night before.

Georgie "Big Gulp" Hayes hits the bottle before my fist has a chance to hit his redneck red neck. It took nine different Policemen just to find and drag back all his body parts after I was done with him.