BAG A SMOOTH ONE

 I was so drunk.

I'd been sipping meal secretions and vomit from a tube I'd found beneath a doorknob in hell not two weeks prior and I'll tell you, these bodies I go through? Well they look like a used toyota corrola after two men have sex inside of the pistons whilst gulping dog piss. yEAH

Anyway, I'm sniffing and snorting real hard on this horse anus outside of a Walmart in Grand Rapids and I'm fumbling through my bullshit because today oh my word is the day I got to fuck with David "the postmaster" Burkowitz.

thIS is the strangest thing because you had to have been there, but when I showed up at this asshole's apartment a few weeks later after the whole Walmart horse thing. My god I was not doing well. I had this terrible infection in my shoulder from a god damned box cutter piece that broke off there when I tried to fly a plane in to the world trade. Anyway, I'm not feeling so hot because the cameltoe I was suffering from had dug so deep into my bowels that I had pieces of rotting polyester inside of my goober pipes. So as I'm struggling to get in through the front of the building where the beast man is hanging out, I keep bashing my forehead into the front door and this little old man pokes his head out and says, "Hey whoa whoa buddy knock that off" which got my glob pump real juicy so I says "hey whoa whoa yourself, old little sweet tits!" and this lil feller kinda creeps out a bit further but he looks and acts like he's blind even though he's got a newspaper in his curled fucker and I say "Hey man you like meat or filth.

God damnit I was so stinky. I pooped right into a lil face of a negro bitch and I hopped two feet in the air and shouted "YO SIMPLY THE BEST" and fell so swiftly with a fart and belted out "POOO YOUR SIMPLY THE BEESSST!!" and at this point there were police lights and I kept swaying and it was so weird and then the popos showed and they drew theyre wepons and i came I screamed like a maniac and droped my guns and my pants and  I ran so fast at them that they dropped their guuns and ran from my dingle dangle and I  ran OH CHRIST DID I RIN amnd i FOred my pistol into the ari and I SCREAMED WHITH PRECISION aand I barfed into the soil and the women ther barfedtoo and  Ibackhancded the bitch because one niggsa cant be too bookoo and whoohwhoa there was one little bitch faggot gots in ma way way so i sucked his penis like a horse drinking water and it was glorious to the point that we were vomittng together nigger.

And I layed in my own filth, farting and fucking around, then there came a faggot police officer. "FUCK YOU, BITCH FAGGGORRT!!" I shouted, but there was a whole hell of a lot of vomit that sprayed and I realized "HOLY MOTHER OF GOD I AM FEELING SOME PROUD BOYSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!" Jesus I screamed so loud that a jet flying over fell out of the sky and crashed in a violent brilliance among the sea and the cloud. Christ I was drunk. I immediately hailed a cab to Portland, Oregon. "What am I doing what am I doing what am I doing" I kept repeating as I was tugging on the demon tube, spraying the divider again and again with seemlingly relentless corn chowder of man fuck. "OH MY GOD" I shouted and the driver hissed at me over his shoulder and the vehicle picked up with pace. I was headed to the north coast, penis in hand, a loaded Glock .22 in the other. OOOOOOOHHHH MAMAMA I wanted to fuck.

I'd heard of chuds before. Hell, they were part of me. I'd wanted proud. I wanted to be proud. I wanted...proud boys. I'd stolen a fuckwad of a truck near the Fremont bridge where I'd finally crawled to, from the filth of the willamette river. My eyes were blind with blood AND I had the Glock shoved into my buns and I was gently singing lines from the bible as I slathered onto the shore near the slabfagtown.

This is December, 2019.

mY NAME is Roy. I shouted. There weren't a lot of people around but that didn't matter in fact it was a good thing because I was seriously HOARNEY. "BRANDON" I hollered like a psychopath. "BRaNDON FARLEY I NEED YOUR HORN!!" But it was hard to maintain my stammer and I fell over down the god damned hill into oncoming traffic and my hose was spraying violently to and fro and oh my christ was it sexy. "BRANDON" I was screaming as a pair of PDX popos rolled up to my rotting corpse. "HEY MOTHERS!!!!" I screeeeeched like a crazed animal. "SHOW US YOUR HANDS!! SHOW US YOUR FUCKING HANDS!!" they screamed at me but I couldn't stop tugging at my cookie nose frog and it kept booping the curd and I was farting like nobody's business and then the meth started kicking in (i snorted like a lot of meth not an hour earlier) and then i decided to hop to and I flew over the river toward pioneer square like a cunt of the land and oooooooh I shouted and I yelled "MEERRRY CHRISTMAS" because I saw this like yellowish tail following me but it was my ass gas and it was actually kind of terrible and i vomited and it fell all over the spirit and I felt bad because a lot of it ended up in people's glasses.

There, right in the square, I found Brandon fuckin Farley. The man of my dreams. lISTEN, i LIKE indecent journalism. I like faggy fucking FUCK bouys. Farley is a neat little fainty cuss. So I find him. He's dancing around like a coookie lil mouse beast and he's doing the lord's work and I stand before him and I lay on the ground and I produce my HOURSE HOOF and it comes out of my canvas beast pant and he kind squirms for a second and I shout "HEY FUCKBOY IT'S ME!! CHRIST BEFORE THEE!!" and he's confused so I take that as a moment to make it real and I grab his face with my talon hands and bring it real close and say "Remember upon the conduct of each depends the fate of all." AND i bend him over a knee and put my honky tonk gooky tooky into his hooch fuck and he's screaming n' creaming like a little bitch so I kick him in the face a few times and he shuts his shit like a good dick fag and I say hey look nigger lover you ain't now Messiah, I AM. THen I commence peeing into his mouth and he's gargling and crying and I am just so excited because he is my new boyfriend and I'm like bae chill then the cops are back and I get real livid.

"IT'S THE COPPERS BRANDY!!" I shouted and he kinda squirms, spitting the pee out of his poop hole and he goes, "PLEASE SIR" and I backhand him because he's actin retard and I go hey look let us hold one another so I shove his face into my hot hot heat and he starts gagging (which is normal) and snorting and farting and puking so I commence blows unto him for at least a few minutes while I smile and gently whisper passages from Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass. weLL, AT some point I decided that Brandy was actually kind of a nigger faggot and I had to move on because FUCK i HAD other things to do than shove small pouches of mentos and banking soda into a gay man's rectum lol. Just kidding no but seriously I had to and a small old homeless woman was so perturbed so I fucked her too. Best fuck of my life.

moving ON. BANG is one of my favorite words. I speak every language. Shit. Santa speaks the language of all children, right? So I huffed some gasoline and took a spell at Mary's before I was thrown to the street and confronted AGIAN by portland's finest. Jesus they were pissed. SWAT was all over the place and if you know me at all I knew how to know how to deal with those action hungry fuck faces so I danced about like amagician and farted real heartily and a lot of them passed out so I could move on...to...BANG. tHAT'S right you faggy bitch. I need your flowery bullshit stinky cunt. I loaded up on my hooka stank beemus falsh moust and got so loaded on horse semen and bleach (i've become accustomed to drying the horse sheeeem and snorting it so fuck you) and I GOT REAL HOT AND HEAVY AND I JERKED OFF ONTO THE FLOOR AND SCREAMED.GOD DAMN I FEEL SO SEXY I shouted into the night. The river really is pretty at night. As it was the night I fucked ALLLYSSAA in the FACE with my poop. Yes, I used feces.

I REFfuse to get into it toooo deeply because my god was she LOOSE. I found her in a room full of other fucktards and oh how they whined when I burst in through the door and I slapped two idiots out of the way so hard that one of them flew out the window like a retard and I was like OOPS and they all started screaming and I produced my CUM cannon and started spraying cabbage all over the place but it felt so weird to be so exposed so i shouted "BRANDY GAVE YOU UP" and I new then and there that the little Alyssa was in my hose cannon show. She looked at me with these terrified by confused eyes and I waited not two seconDS. i REACHED for her with my satanic pupila and forced her whorish mouth into my cave of barnacle monkey smell and she cried and gagged and I took my time when I bent her over my callous kneeees and fucked her in her ear with a small cat. It was AMAZING HOW MUCH SHE BEGGED FOR ME TO STOP.

Christ, what a whirlwind. I remembered that I hated traveling to the present. My heart hurt. My mind hurt. The world seemed just a little tooooo in touch with how so eloquent the decisiveness of our actions are almost assuredly to be. Not to be pejorative, and not to be unsound, but the demon to pinched the poke of the proud faggot boys was ME. 

A Neon Oblivion

The first time I drank the tears of God I was newly demon. But what the fuck. I was rip-roaring and tootin' around Barrow, Alaska with an arrow jutting out of my left shoulder from earlier that week. It was elk hunting season after all. I couldn't stop crying and it was really freaking out the people who lived there. I kept screaming out the window of the Bronco I was driving, "TWO STINKY PLOPS, ONE FAT DICK!" I couldn't stop that either. I was banging on the steering wheel and blasting Wild Billy Childish & The Buff Medways’ Fanciers Association – ‘Steady The Buffs’ and I had it going so loud that people were coming out of their homes just to see what the hell was happening.

Most were covering their ears. I was also spraying husband bulge cream-gurt all over the windshield like a fucking maniac so it was hard to see and I may have hit a dog or a horse (I CAN'T REMEMBER BECAUSE I WAS ON METH/SEMEN). Now if you've never been to Barrow, it's a small place, not much there. That stupid vampire movie takes place there with Josh Bartlet or whatever his name is.
So at this point I DECIDED I AM IN-FACT a faggot clown.

God DAMNIT. So I take my time with a weird little turnout with my face in the sewer and I am screaming into a puddle, which amounts to a burble of terrifying burp language. Anyway as the SUN set for the last time for 30 days, I wrested my crooked, shrunken glob cone from it's cave and began yanking at it with such force that bits of skin and muscle were coming off in my curled claws and I was really getting into it. I siphoned the gas from the bronco and spit it all in one unholy blast over the Eddie Bauer upholstry within and lit a match. You could see the blaze for miles. I know because I began walking through the snow back toward Barrow, a tire iron in my hand; barefoot; puking bile and horse manure; and gently humming "My nearer god to thee" with one broken ankle and a .45 pistol in the other hand. You see i HAD vengeance on my breath, in my scabbed, scabies-filled heart. You morons don't understand that the War in Heaven isn't a one time happening.

You don't understand that it wasn't a one time thing you read about with your dad and grandma as they beefed your horned rat porp. Naw nigga, when I was hurled to earth by the big bitch himself, it was eternity you fuck. There are some ratty shit pages out there somewhere explaining this, when I was a bit more eloquent FUCK YOU. yEAH MICHael and his army advanced on us and it looked like flower petals in a neon oblivion of nothing. I remember advancing with my pike of eternity, screaming with honor and hatred mixed together in a blend of pink and greens oh it was a sight to see. But it was decreed by God to never end. So it continues still. Anyway, had a FLASHBACK, sorry. HEading into Barrow I relived that shit. And I got to bonking on the nuggets and peep turd real hard. It was disgusting. I remember vomiting just because I looked down and saw what i was doing. When I entered Barrow it was sunset.

This is November 28, 2014.

BRRRR!! Fuck you it was colder than a dirty whore inside of a Volkswagon frozen inside of a toooon monkey. My head was buzzinf k= MY HEAD was buzzing like a helicopter inside of a whore's vagina. My chim milk was spilling onto the new snow like oil and I kept hollering, "SHOW ME THE MONEY" as I limped down the looming street. In an instant, I was transported into a hallway among one of the many houses along cunningham street and I attacked the first, lowly soul I could find. She was an older woman, maybe 200 years old, and I shouted "ARE YOU SPRY BITCH" but my balls hurt and I fell before her, sipping bleach and snorting some ocycotin (it may have been dried horse semen) and I again exploded from my NASDAQ hose. Yuck. She squealed and scurried from me. But I called after her, "HEY LET'S MAKE THIS REAL!" My pants were long gone and I was bleedling from my hose and my lips and I looked like a melted dog shit.

Don't juge me from this encounter alone, but I caught up to the old wench and bit her vagina off and chewed it like bubble gum as she lay dying in the snow. i HOWELED to the skies with an upsidown boner that resembled a makeshift fart cloud and it was all right with me. I clambered into the city hall and screamed something about urine before i found myself in handcuffs and shoved beneath a bench. i MUST've passed out because I woke to a sobering belt of gas from me own anus and my god it melted paint off the walls. I danced around for a hot second screaming, "I AM KEVIN FROM HOME ALONE 2 I AM KEVON FROM HOMO ALONG ROO!!" and semen was spewing from my dolphin sprayhole like a fucking cannon. "OH MY!" I screamed and it punched a hole in the fucking concrete.

Well that was enough, I began crying like a little boy. "FAGGOT!" i screamed through my tears. iN Time I scurried over the town and at most of the occupants with a nasty cry for help. NO one listens to me though. And as I raped, and as I pillaged, more went missing and more were killed. My dad was happy. And God was happy - that runt. WE may have lost the war, but IDGAF. I SHIT MYSELF SO MANYTIMES.

Do you know what the sound of a squeezed out pecker makes when you stomp on it in the freshly fallen snow?

WANNA BE A GREAT DARK MAN

In 1997 I got really into Max Headroom. I mean it was embarrassing. The dude's days were long gone and yet here I was, living out of a moving box off 93 near Big Arm, Montana, leaking naughty fluids from my bloated pfeffer hose and eating potted meat from a dead man's shoe, contemplating major reconstructive surgery. I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted to be Max Headroom. I had made drawings of the procedure, so I was pretty fucking clear on what needed to be done. I was going to have my forehead raised, hairline trimmed back, chin chiseled and cut square, wider, thinner lips, beady eyes, and blond hair plugs up the ass. I also was pretty square on having sunglasses grafted to my face using black people skin. Oh yeah, I was gonna be a keeper. So I stole a car and made my way to Missoula. I called ahead and set an appointment at the Montana Plastic Surgery Center. Oh mama I was SO FUCKING PUMPED I could barely keep the car on the road. Not to mention I'd been drinking, heavily. I was on my twelfth bottle of brute and I needed money.

I stopped in Polson around noon and held up a Texaco with a little .38 I kept buried in my nono huh uh area. I murdered two people in the parking lot because I felt like it. A little over an hour later I pulled up to the clinic. I shit my pants and cried in the lobby for a good twenty minutes before gathering the nerve to approach the short, frock of a woman slumped over behind the counter. Her eyes were going in two different directions and her mouth was hanging open like a wet hole in the earth. I snapped my fingers and said, "hey retard, you in there?" She blinked furiously and farted. "You want doctor, father?" Doctor father? I giggled like a psycho and backhanded her. "Yes get me one of your fucking quacks out here before I shit myself again." She crawled out of the room, blubbering and crying.

I sat back down in the waiting room and shit myself anyway. My god it stank. A small man sitting nearby gagged, then covered his mouth with the back of his wrist and muttered, "Good grief!" before scampering off into a hole in the wall. Another man, across from me, was staring at me like I had four heads and dick growing out of my face. I said "why don't you take a picture, you fucking faggot" and I dug out a real nasty booger and flicked it at him. It landed right in his agape mouth and he shrieked like a woman and got up and ran away right into a wall and knocked himself out cold. After about an hour of waiting, this short, shriveled dick weed comes sauntering out and says, "Mr. Blags? Mr. Blags?" I leaped out of my chair and landed directly on his head. He fell to his knees and emitted a quirky little scream. "THAT'S MEEEE!!" I belted out, released a horrid spray of hot gas that left a permanent stain on the lobby wall. The man rolled to his side, holding his golf balls and whimpering lightly. "Oh my god," he whispered. I beat him about the face with my goulash pipe until he screamed at me to stop. So I did. He asked me to follow him to see the doctor so down the hall we went, him limping and still holding his goobers. The whole way down the hall I kept slapping him in the back of the head with a small stick I'd found outside. He kept his head lowered and squeaked a little "owie" every time I rapped him on the noggin.

So I get into the little room and I take a piss in all of the cabinets and drawers and the piss smells like coffee or rotting meat or both and I throw up just a little and I slipped on the burp up and hit my fucking head one of the open drawers. I sit there on the floor in the puke and my head is bleeding like a god damned stuck pig when in walks the doctor. He stands there completely taken aback. His eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging open and he's just frozen and very confused. I say "SEX IN A TUB? THAT DOESN'T WORK!" and I rip another horrid fart, but this time a little slice of turd spills out and it smells so bad the doctor vomits and it goes all over my face and someone down the hall shouts, "hey keep it down out there!" and I grab the doctor and I say listen you fucking yes man, towing the company line, you make me look like Max Headroom or I'll fucking tear your head off and shit down your neck hole." I said this last part so quietly the doctor had to lean in to hear me. When he did hear me, he jerked back and said, "Oh well I uh...hehe...ok, what did you uh, have in mind, sir?" As he said this he wiped some vomit from his mouth and began writing something illegible on a little clipboard he pulled out of his pants. So I laid it out for him. I talked and he wrote it all down, nodding here and there and saying "oh, oh wow" once or twice. Then I said, "And finally, I am pretty square on having sunglasses grafted to my face using black people skin."

The doctor stopped writing and looked up at me from his notes. "Oh, oh wow" he said and I grinned like a maniac. He said, "Ok Mr. Blags, I think we have everything we need to get going on this here, uh procedure." "Yeah find whatever you piece of shit" and I waved him away. He stood awkwardly and thanked me for some reason then waddled out of the room. I sat there in the same place where I'd slipped and fallen and I was weeping softly because I had a hemorrhoid hanging out of my crack like a god damned anal labia. All of a sudden these two jacked up police officers bash in through the door with their guns drawn and they're screaming at me to get on the ground get on the ground. I'm nursing my head and I said "You bobble-headed retards I'm already on the floor" and I burped another anal belch and they both filled their cheeks with air and their eyes bulged in their heads and they scurried from the room gagging and burping. One of them said "Mother of god" and I'm pretty sure he was puking at that point. I yowled like a stepped on cat and jumped out the fucking window and went scampering down the street like a fucked up retard. People on the street were shocked.

I headed out of Missoula and made my way east where I hitchhiked with a small family from Boise headed to Maine. I killed them with my anal blasts on accident one brisk morning and left their bodies to rot outside of North Dakota. I drove their minivan until it ran out of gas somewhere near Minneapolis. Fucking fags. Max fucking Headroom man. Max fucking Headroom. I need to wipe.

Heal the World - Once Upon a Time in Yuma

About three years ago I was caught blowing a dog off loop 101 down in Yuma. These khaki-clad fucks wrested me off of the plump pooch just as I was oozing steaming, yellow stud chowder all over my size 6 Georgia boots. I screamed like a woman being branded by an iron dick right on the titty and spun wildly, flailing like a retard. The pair stepped back, alarmed, and one of them drew his Beretta. I stopped flailing but kept screaming, flaring my nostrils as a blurp of green cottage man cheese dribbled loosely from my spurtin' big bertha.

The cops were clearly nervous. The one on the right held his pistol just above his waist, not pointed at me, but he was close to doing so. I eyed them, still screaming, the one on the left winced and covered his ears like a three-year-old. To make everyone feel a little easier, I decided to switch from the blood curdling screaming to a nice sweet song. So I belted out, "De sobra sabes, que eres la primera, que no miento, si juro que daría!!!!" Their eyes widened and their jaws dropped. After a few lines, singing at the absolute top of my lungs, they both started hollering at me to stop, but I just sang louder and shut my eyes real tight, sweating and swaying to the rhythm like a god damned lounge singer on horse tranquilizers and amphetamines. "De sobra sabes, por ti la vida entera, por ti, la vida entera. Y sin embargo un rato cada día!!!!"

"PLEASE OH MY GOD MY BROTHER USED TO SING THIS SONG TO ME!!" screamed one of the cops, which only made me sing even louder. The rear window of their cruiser shattered. Oh and then they ran like little girls after my horse cock ballooned from the dumpster bin that is my crotch garage. I vomited heavily, splooging raw sewage from my rectum as I wept uncontrollably, blubbering about my parents. Later that night, I realized the cops had taken my sweet dog. That was when it got real. "Oh Debra," I whispered. "The time for pain is upon thee."

This is Tuesday, July 4, 1995.

Ok so maybe I haven't been straightforward. I spend a lot of time touting my satanic wherewithal, but honestly I'm just a buttfucking clown boy and it's not a big deal, but later that night I had broken into the evidence room of the Southwest Border Alliance public safety station in Yuma County to see if these faggot cops had taken the sexy dog boy there. Oh and Yuma is in Arizona for you fucking morons who don't know where Yuma is. Fucking crab penis children are scratching at my bearded shrunken couch pillow and bean bags.

So I'd busted into this place looking for that god damned dog and I was leaking mucus turd like a punctured bowel frog and I am banging around and jerking off and drinking a concoction of semen and beef broth and Everclear and pumping Slash's acoustic work over my earbuds. I was ripping open these safes in the evidence room thinking maybe, just maybe they hid the dog in one of them, but no, no they didn't. It was about then that the cops busted in on me. There were initially three, but when the first one saw me, he squealed and ran away shouting, "OH MY WORD IT'S A WEIRD DEMON BOY OH SHIT SOMEONE CALL RINGLING BROTHERS!!"

When I saw them, I danced around and squirted little turds from my puckered balloon end. I vomited a real nasty explosion of diarrhea and scum and I fell to a knee and shouted, "OH CHRIST WHY?" because it got all over my chinos that I'd just purchased at a Khols in New Hampshire. How could I forget those chinos? I remember buttfucking the clerk because he asked me how my day was going and it really set me off for some reason.

Anyway, I unzipped, puke all over my paws, slippery from the poop that was streaming from my stomach, and let loose my filthy gecko from hell, and chased after the two flatfoots, with my hands limp and outstretched, kinda dancing on my toes, wiggling my corndog bag to and fro like a burned water balloon. For good measure, I added another atomic explosive of starfish clam juice as I bellow out "HAIL TO THE PUP!"

It was at this point that I started honking like a fucking deranged duck and flapping my arms. I'd started weeing something awful and the orange stream was quite pungent. Christ, it smelled like boiled rat flesh mixed with foot bile and freshly barbecued dog turds. "BOOGIE WOOGIE YOU LITTLE FAGGOTS!" I belched and I went scurrying along after the terrified officers, who were now cowering under a tarp near this lopsided log pile. I wrested the tarp from atop the two and howled like a fucking psychotic monkey child then commenced a barrage of stink thwaps with my chum-filled gum baton. They were crying like little bitches and I was just hooting and hollering like a god damned fiend.

One of these troopers, the faggier one, produced a little dinky cross and held it up with his eyes shut hard. He was whispering the Lord's prayer as I ripped his head off with my teeth and spit the fucking thing down the road and it went plopping down like a fucking apple. The other trooper shouted, "BILLY NO!" and started running down the road after the head. I just laughed and decided to buy some beer. Before doing so I had to fire off a few rounds with my machine pistol just to scare the mutant bean men living in my pubes.

Anyway to make it look real I riddled the pair of dumbasses with the little Cobray 9mm automatic i had tucked in my crack and I glued the severed head back onto the body of the one cop but not before horking my goob goob into the neckhole. I'm not proud of my actions, but I was hammered. I spent the next few weeks wandering the desert, listening to Michael Jackson's Heal the World. I killed three people before coming to somehwere in Atlanta. My ass hurt and I was missing three fingers on my left hand.

SUSHI SERVED COLD

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DO YOU EVEN OCCUPY, BRO?

The beginning of 2016 could be branded onto my ass as possibly the worst fucking intro to any year I've ever experienced in my tenure as demon clown cocksucking horse rat motherfuck. Think rabies of the genitals only some midget goober ball boy with a face like Sean Austin is continually rubbing fart steam on your teeth and a small Keebler elf has burrowed his way into your asshole and you can only hear "Cold as Ice" by Foreigner over and over again until you want to blow your brains out during Chicago rush hour. yEAH, that's what it was like for me. Suck my vein goblin.

So I ain't never see the bowels of the Pacific Northwest (not true) and I'm bebopping and fartin' around south SanFrancisco when I run into this dingbat of a shitface who's headed north to Oregon. I immediately pounce on his small face and spread my cheeks over his nose and let loose the wettest, creamiest fart I've ever produced and it's so foul the poor bastard passes out. I sat there with his prostrate body for several hours, attempting to invoke Satan, but he's in Cabo and not answering his celly so I decide to loot shitface's Wu-Tang jeans where I find car keys then spend the next three days beeping on the stupid key fob trying to find shit face's ride until finally I hear this little beep beep and I see this god damned Prius lodged up against an embankment near the St. Frances with several angrily handwritten notes about how "this is not a parking (sic) space, asshole!" So I stock up the dinky shitmobile with nighttrain, cocaine, fecal powder, dead horse meat and I speed north to make my dream a reality.

After a shitsmear of travel including one real fucked up incident where I'd accidentally murdered a transient and done things with his skin, I finally made my way to this hellhole toilet named Burns. Burns was the type of place I'd choose to evacuate my bowels into if my butthole were a thunderhead and my name was Karen "Zeus" Ramm. Anyway, I come stumbling into town, knee deep into my 45th Schlitz 40oz (Prius is long gone, sitting upside down somewhere 500ft off 101 on a secluded beach head) and I'm hollering my brains out about Jesus and the apostles when I notice this Ford Faggot150 with Nevada plates swerving all over the road trying to scare this little minivan. I thought to myself that this was some sweet action and I needed to get my wiener hard. So I started gently tugging on the duke with my peen ween claws and the bastard ballooned like a bat out of hell and I was so surprised that I puked my Hardees fish sandwich all over the flesh barrel and this F150 slows to a stop and the occupants are staring at me with their jaws on the ground. I scream at them, "I CAN DO ALL THINGS THROUGH CHRIST THAT STRENGTHENS ME!!!" and I belch rancid again and the driver gags and a dude in the rear slaps him hard on the shoulder over and over again and he's shouting, "Dude GO GO GO!" and I'm burping the mule like a crazed lunatic and stumbling toward them moaning like a zombie when they peel out and leave me in the cloud of burning rubber mist.

Fuck me I stank.

So after spraying messy cumshot on a small Asian family who in turn screamed and scampered away like rats, I dug a hole and took a dirt nap for about 24 hours. When I woke, there were two police officers standing over me. "Sir, are you ok?" said the old one. "Dad?" I said. The other cop (who looked like he was fourteen and trying so hard to hold in puke) glanced at the old cop and furrowed his brow. Before the old cop could respond, however, I bounded with fury from my hole and disappeared into Burns. I barely made out "STOP OR I'LL SHOOT!" but I didn't have time to waste on those two bozos. I had serious work to do.

This is January 2016.

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?" It was like nails in my skull. "HEY MOTHERFUCKER, WHO ARE YOU?!" Ugh shut the fuck up! Fuck me I was hammered. I couldn't roll out of my shit heap. "HE'S DRUNK, HELP ME PULL THIS ASSHOLE OFF THE FENCE!" This burly bitch started toying at my crotch so I spun violently from my fetal curd hangover of death and with blood red eyes hissed at him, "I AM BECOME DEATH, THE DESTROYER OF WORLDS!!!" and I leapt six feet in the air, my dingle dongle death triangle flopping in the high desert wind like rotting fruit and the beast of a man poking at me shrieked like a little girl and covered his eyes as I landed squarely with my taint on the bridge of his nose. There were other men with him and they started screaming too. I heard the sounds of at least two rifles lock, but I just smiled, a couple of my teeth fell out into the snow as I slid gently from the man's face leaving a snail slime of shit and semen. Someone, I couldn't see who, vomited violently.

I couldn't see a whole lot as I had beer goggles, but I realized I was inside the perimeter of some sort of militia gathering. As my peepers came to I could just barely make out a sign, which read Welcome to Malheur National Wildlife Refuge Headquarters 6 Miles. I uncapped a mason jar a quarter full of seal vomit and chugged it like water. That same person barfed again and I exclaimed to the flabbergasted and mortified crew, "SHALOM BROTHERS!" and outspread my arms like a crazed man of the cloth emerging from the jungle unto a native village. This one dingus in a cowboy hat approached me cautiously. I remained frozen in that position, arms outspread still, a deranged grin on my face and moved only my eyes as he got closer. "Uh, my name is Ammon. This here is Ryan, Brian and Blaine. We are here to disrupt the work of employees at the Malheur Refuge." The three other men were armed. I began to weep softly and asked if someone had farted then immediately asked, without taking a breath, if anyone had any beef jerky. They all stood there, dumbfounded. Then I changed my tune and blurted out, "The federal government lacks the constitutional authority to exclusively own and manage public lands in United States!" Well it was as if a bomb had gone off. They all cheered and hollered and one of them even said "Bless you, good sir!" and they hoisted me up on their shoulders and began chanting, "KING MAN KING MAN!"

This gang of retards carried me for six fuckin' miles up to the doors of that fucking refuge headquarters and there are news trucks and cops and all sorts of bullshit all along the way. There are also a bunch of these armed assholes and they all start chanting, "KING MAN KING MAN!" and I have to take a dump so I start screaming, "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!" but they don't put me down they just keep chanting. So the waterslide of death starts leaking real terrifying banana scented dogshit and this gentleman below me shrieks and I get dropped on my fucking head and I have this dog toy in my crotch and it squeaks when I hit the ground. Some dumbass starts laughing, which makes me cry, but I am only feigning and when he squints to see if I am actually crying I shoe him so hard in the walnut pouch that he flies through the fucking window and breaks the 2-inch glass and everyone gasps.

So I decide to hang out with these dildos for a few months and things are going well. My favorite part of the trip is hiding in the walls and taking massive corn shits in the hallways. The stench is unbelievable and a few times Ammon is driven to tears, pleading with me to "Use the toilets or go outside." I just laugh and belch into his throat. His fucked up retard brother looks like Chunk from the Goonies and I enjoy fucking with him the most. One night I drugged him with heavy dose of methohexital, which I think he might've had a slight allergy to because he puffed up about three sizes and was gasping for air so I just commenced a barrage of blows unto his face and he was just wheezing all puffed up like a blowfish all red and blue in the face and tears were streaming down his fucked up face like rivers and I just laughed and blew my load into his butt.

It wasn't all fun.

The day we lost the sweet, sweet, sweet, nude and sweaty LaVoy I was so drunk that I was climbing the tower up and down nonstop and just firing off random shots into the air and screaming verses from the Bible. The media got a real kick out of this, but when I heard that LaVoy had been raped, I really got sad because he was my only friend. He used to sneak into my toilet at night and read child stories to me and eventually I told him if he came into my hovel and read one more god damn story to me that I was going to cut off his head and vomit down the neck hole and then fuck it. He didn't seem to hear me so I set that motherfucker up. Sometimes I can go invisible because I am a demon after all and so I told the FBI where they could find these idiots and when they attempted to pull them over I went invi and forced the truck onto the shoulder, dragged LaVoy's dumbass out into the snow and he was squirming and these two spooks come out and they're yelling at him to drop his weapon and he's screaming that he can't so I grab his arms so he's reaching until I hear the dual blast of a scatter gun and as he lays dying I whisper the last few lines of Alice in Wonderland to him:

Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood; and how she would gather about her other little children, and make their eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of Wonderland of long ago; and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days.

And he just lay there wide-eyed as the Feds came up on him and he died. What a fucking tard. ANyway after that and a bunch of other things, I considered my job in Oregon done. It was hard, but I was able to pull off a whole hell of a lot of shit with those backward rednecks and even had sex with a few of them. They might call it rape but I don't give a fuck about that. I made my way east where I found a small apartment in Lake Havasu City and began selling animal porn. Got arrested not long after. Escaped. Got arrested again. Fuck 2016. wHO NEEDs a drink?

A Beer with Ted.

Ted Bundy

The very definition of heartless evil my ass. I say goober with not a harmful hair on his delectable, gentle, fresh, putrid, hot, hot body. Or something like that. I don't know. I don't fucking care. I mean sure he was a cold-blooded murderer and rapist, but who isn't? lol All I know is that I thought he was faggy and you know I like to keep it real. But no seriously, that was Ted for you. A real charmer. He was a sweet piece of shit. Made the most deliciously mouthwatering turkey meatloaf you could ever dream of or so I've been told. He could also be a real fag and enjoyed masturbating maybe even more than I do, which is a bold statement. Real bold. 

You see, Ted was a foolhardy sonofabitch. I first met him on the UO campus outside Bean Hall. I was jerking the veiny station wagon inside of a rhododendron, using a real choice glob of diarrhea I’d pilfered from an outhouse in Hayward Field as lubricant. I was about to evacuate my horse licorice all over the face of this retarded child I’d kidnapped earlier in the day from a McDonalds when good old Ted stumbled into my love warren. GET THE FUCK OUT! I screamed like a banshee, sure he would ruin my orgasm. But the look of shock on his face only made me hornier and I sprayed my lust nougat all over his god damned woolen sweater. He shrieked and recoiled just as I finished burping the last few drops of man eggs and that’s when the retard from McDonalds started to cry. LOOK WHAT YOU DID YOU LITTLE JERK! I shouted at Ted as I bashed him in the mouth with my pulsating cheese balloon of death. He fell to the ground, sorta whimpering and I started to feel bad so I stomped on the retard until he stopped moving and I helped Ted up. Ted stopped crying and introduced himself as Theodore. Aw hell I’ll just call you Ted I said and I slapped him on the back so hard accidentally that he went head first into the dorm window in front of us and cracked the glass, knocking himself out cold. I knew this guy was something special, but I didn’t have time to buttfuck him as I was late for a luncheon at the Holiday Inn later that morning, so I left him snoring there next to the retard, both submerged in a gathering puddle of my ejaculate potion.

Years later, I was working as a janitor in a Kentucky Fried Chicken in Ann Arbor, Michigan when I stopped off for a breakfast cap at Fraser’s because the tender poured tall and let me pass out in the shitter. About noon, this disheveled looking fucktard comes stumbling in with his pants halfway around his ankles and his lower lip down to the floor. No one paid much attention. He sat at the bar and ordered a beer. There was something familiar about this asshole that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. He smelled like dog fecal and looked like a fucked up version of Shia LaBeouf with an upside down face. About the time I was ready to pull out my horned wand of hades to rub until terrifying climax was when the game started. The University of Washington vs Michigan Rose Bowl, and it was then that I remembered the fag. OH YEAH WOOL SWEATER WOOL SWEATER I hollered like a madman.

This is January 2^nd, 1977.

HEY TED I screamed at him, bits of turd and molding chicken flying from my pursed lips. He spun at me on his stool, more alarmed than the gutless kike I’d raped with a lit pipe bomb the weekend prior. SHHHHH he hissed at me. I was taken aback. THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM? That’s when he made this look of recognition. He seemed petrified. YES, IT’S ME I said, LORD OF THE FLIES and I shoved a bunch of COCKtail napkins into a festering bullet hole in my shoulder to stop the greenish pus oozing out that I'd been trying to ignore for the past month. A cop had shot me when I'd been interrupted during consensual anal with a small dingus humanimal I met at a bus stop in St. Paul. Well Ted, the poor bastard just fainted and fell to the floor like a bag of rocks. I picked him up by the arms and carried him off to the sanctity of the restrooms, the bartender calling after me HE OK? Yeah I said just gotta throw some water on the face. Well I lugged him into the restroom and pulled out my chafing tools and went to work real hard and long stuffing his hamhock with my mayonnaise gland until I burst like a pent up flood and fell asleep for about an hour.

When I came to, Ted was curled into a ball and crying . YOU FUCKTARD I shouted. I know I was a little harsh but forget about it. I stood and began an endless monologue about Steve Bilko dying in police custody and somehow managed to segue beautifully into how mammoth my kong pole is. Ted tried to shield his eyes from my quivering totem, but I made sure he watched as I pontificated wildly about these things so dear to my heart. Ted howled at me DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM AND WHAT I HAVE DONE but I just back handed him and told him again and again to WAIT A MINUTE, THIS IS THE BEST PART ASSHOLE. After about three hours of this, Ted finally fell asleep. When I emerged from the sweaty, stinking toilet, it was dusk. The bar was still hopping, but the game was over. I called for an order of babyback ribs and blatantly sharted on the floor in front of a group of men. They all grunted in disgust and retreated from their table. One of them said with a serious grumble, "Oh Jesus." Not long after this unnecessary moment, Ted came stumbling from the toilet. He looked even more flustered than before. I stood and clapped him on the back, again a bit too hard, and he went flying head first into the jukebox and broke the fucking glass fascia. The whole bar erupted in laughter and I screamed LET'S PUT SOME CHUMBAWUMBA ON YOU FAGS! The laughter died down pretty quick after I said that and turned into hushed whispers of confusion. Ted was sitting on the floor, leaning against the jukebox nursing a large gash on his forehead. LETS GET SOME DINNER I yelled into his ear with booming tenacity and he winced.

ROY YOUR RIBS ARE UP called the bartender. I pulled Ted to his feet and wrestled with him until he submitted to my loving arms. Please he said Please I need to get out of here. I kneed him in the nuts and he hissed from his lips in agony, his eyes plastered shut. YOU QUIET DOWN NOW PRETTY BOY YOU LOOK LIKE YOU COULD USE A SOLID MEAL AT A REAL RESTAURANT. I then force fed him the ribs, bone and all until he was literally yacking on the bar. The bar tender had to throw us both out.

Well once we got outside, I lit a cigarette and poor Ted had fallen into the bushes and was puking his guts out. OH MY GOD he kept saying over and over again. I started peeing on his back and he was swatting at me from over his shoulder, sort of swiping at the yellow stream and he just kept saying OH MY GOD. There was steam coming off his back from where my pee was hitting him. I turned to puke myself and after I was done, went to grab Ted again because I wanted to take him back to KFC where we could take turns frying his testicles, but alas, the sweet shit had disappeared into the night. I was so depressed. TED I screamed for hours on end. TED into the Ann Arbor night. A cabby pulled up and said Hey man you ok? I told him to fuck off and broke out his teeth with a forty bottle I found in my boot.

That was the last I ever saw of the sweet man in person. A few months later I was crying into a burn pile of human remains somewhere in eastern Odessa (don't ask) when I saw on my lil shitbox van tv that they'd captured Ted for tax evasion or rape or something I don't know I wasn't really listening. But I found out that they killed the poor guy in the eighties and all because he was such a loving person. Go figure, am I right? I didn't mention this earlier, but you know what really pissed me off though? Ted stole my wallet at some point that night back in 1977. I had over $873 dollars in that wallet. It was calfskin. 

Let them give head.

The Death of Marie Antoinette

It was October. I remember the month because I was planning on being a murdered hooker for this cocktail party I'd been invited to. So I spent several days killing prostitutes on the streets of Versailles and using their skins to build me a real life murdered hooker costume. It was disgusting. I think I still have the suit somewhere - it turned out pretty awful. It's now all leathery and moth-eaten, but I was thinking of selling it on eBay or some shit. Anyway, it was October and the entire country was just one giant bag of assholes. This bitch of a moose whore was taking everything from the people and not that I gave a flying fuck, but I moonlit as a guillotine borreau. The work sucked major dick, but I enjoyed saving the heads (when I could) and giving myself head using the head and I would pump until I burst milky, greenish egg from my sexual crayon and the repulsive mixture would go down the throat and sorta slime it's way down and out the spinal column. I used to run around sometimes with the head still stuck on my quaffer singing the La Marseillaise and farting up something awful. I don't think my neighbors much cared for me. I also skinned their cats alive before making casseroles out of the carcasses and leaving it on their doorstep with a little note that read, "Don't be a pussy. - Frank". Any way it's middle October and I get this fucking notice that we're killing the Queen. Well, she wasn't queen anymore at this point, but it didn't matter. As the royal high executioner, I was somewhat pumped, mostly because of the head. I wanted head from Marie and god damnit I was going to get it. Regardless of that, I planned on breaking into her cell the night before and raping her in the ass with my fists just for the fuck of it.

This is October, 1793.

So earlier that year, I was in touch with this faggot named Count Axel von Fersen who was supplying me with some real chewy nastiness that I would snort like a pig from hell just before the killings. I go over to his rat's nest to get my weekly supply and who is he boning in the shower? Fucking Antoinette. I was pissed because I wanted to bone her. So in a rage, I raped him in the butt with a fire poker all the while she's screaming and her tits are out so I started punching at them like they're a pair of overripe wrecking balls. I am sweating so profusely that I hardly noticed that I had pissed myself at some point during the altercation. So Fersen is unconscious on the floor and bleeding profusely from the anus. I decided I'd had enough so I dragged the bitch into the streets and a posse got together and whisked her away to Paris. It was a mess.

Fast forward a few months and now here we are. T minus an hour or so. I've got my red panties on and I'm upright in the stirrups if you know what I am saying. I was very intoxicated, very intoxicated, and was trying to hold myself up on stage in front of this massive crowd you know and I am leaning on the guillotine (Karen is what I called her) and this dumbass woman holds her son up and says, "Look that is the high executioner!" So I scream at them to "GET THE FUCK BACK" and in the process of delivering the warning, I vomited. Of course. It was a horrid, putrid, piping hot puke too and it just blanketed the mom and son duo. So he starts wailing and she's crying so I boot her in the fucking mouth and whip out my honk baton and start pissing on her as she's laying on the ground knocked clean out. I grab the crying little boy and I ate his brains, a steady stream of oily diarrhea pooling at my bucket top boots.

So about an hour goes by and I'm unsuccessfully trying to hold in a massive shit. I am squirting prune juice from the squelch hole and it's ruining my britches, but that wasn't such a big deal considering I was already covered in vomit. Hungover as fuck, pissed off and horny, I got super fucking angry when everybody started cheering. "SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU DISGUSTING WORMS!" I bellowed at them until I realized they were cheering because Marie was being led up to the stage. Well my puffin claw starting getting nice and juicy and hard and it's bulging in my pants like a god damn swollen loaf of grade a steer and I notice some old man staring at it with eyes as wide as saucers. I picked a rock solid booger and flicked it at the idiot. That broke his dumb ass stare. I laughed and he ran away weeping and muttering something about respect or some shit.

So here comes Marie and her hair looks like shit so I go to town shearing off the lovely locks so my blade gets a cleaner cut and she's crying softly and so to make her feel better I tell her that I'm going to cum into her decapitated head, I didn't actually say the word head, I think I called it a cum dumpster. Yeah, I said, "Hey Marie I am going to cum into your decapitated cum dumpster." Well, that just made her cry more so I decided fuck it and I shoved her to her knees. I said, "Have some fucking courage, you dumbass." She looked at me and said, "Courage? The moment when my ills are going to end is not the moment when courage is going to fail me." I said, "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" But I only did that so she would start talking so her mouth wouldn't clench shut when I chopped her god damned cum dumpster off. So just as she is responding I let the blade loose. It's a clean cut, hardly any blood at first, and the head plopped neatly in the basket at my feet. I accidentally vomited on her body but was careful to not disturb the head. The crowd gasped at my antics, but slowly began to cheer and cheer and I was screaming at them that I had a headache and to shut the fuck up, but it took me actually unzipping the mutilated corn cob and thrusting my veiny totem pole into the decapitated head and pumping hard and long and smooth in front of the dumbstruck crowd for them to shut their shit. Everyone just stopped and stared in silence. Well, a few people were screaming and I remember seeing a few people crying. I just pumped faster and faster and Marie's eyes were sort of rubbering around the scene before they rolled into the back of her head. I could feel a strange seizing as her muscles relaxed and I unloaded my spermin' blunt into the back of her throat. A man cried out, "Heavenly god!" I howled and howled and beat on my chest while Marie's head hung tightly from my throbbing member, curdled milky slime spilling out over her lips and from the hole where her body used to attach.

After this stunning display, I lost my job as high executioner and went on unemployment. I never did end up making that cocktail party and eventually moved to Turkey where I found a job cleaning out sex stalls just south of Istanbul.

Oh, stewardess?

Malaysia Flight 370

I don't work well with others. The last time I had a real job that I didn't spend fucking some clueless bonehead in the ass for the majority of the time, I was a shoe salesman in Tampa. Welll after I got fired for turning a customer's balls into my own personal sex trampoline, I was fired and had to move back in with my fucking retarded cousins in Kuala Lumpur. They own a sweatshop that makes dildos made out of worms and old boots. They sell these fucking things half way across the world for quadruple what they're worth, which is shit. Anyway, I made my way to Koala Lamper and get there and my cousins house is one big shithole meth lab, which is cool because I was craving some nasty rat chew.  So I'm in their shit house, somewhere outside of Sapang, which is close to the airport. These idiots are all fucked up and rubbing on one another's semen hogs when I burst in through the front door and scream, "CHIM CHIM YOU FUCKING SAND NIGGERS!?!?" Well, these retards did not like this one bit considering they were on meth and two or three went scattering like fucking cockroaches and the other four drew these little tard pistol and opened fire on me. I freaked out and spun like a top there in the doorway and unloaded my bowels with such force that one of my eyeballs popped from its socket and hung on my face like an aborted yoyo from hell. These douche bags with the toy guns start screaming and hollering and as their voices are drowned out by my fucking feces cannon hose, I get to vomiting blood and horse shit and I have to excuse myself for a beer.

SO I waddled my bleeding ass down the street and this faggy Mitsubishi Lance with a dinky blue light bar on the roof pulls up to my right. I hadn't bothered to pull my shit-soaked shorts up, so my shrunken cucumber is hanging there like a burned up garden worm. These two cock trumpets approached and I finally notice that the Lancer says POLIS on the door and I laugh to myself because I fucking hate cops so before they even open their mouths I pounce on the one closest to me whilst bashing the other in the corn bread bags. He goes down with a childish whimper, curls into a ball and just kinda lays there crying for the rest of the event. Well the yellowish boob I've pounced on is squirming with all his might to wriggle out from under MY 300 LBS OF MEAT but I've got him pinned something awful. My red rocket is taking shape now and my mouth starts to water, so I get real close to him to where my bloodied red eyeball, still hanging by a thread, gently caresses his cheek. He starts to scream, so I start screaming with him and began humping a little you know to really get into the moment. This pudgy bastard feels like a water baby under my loin of groin and I'm rubbin' on him real hard when a second Lancer pulls up.

Well I'm low on brown juice and I've got blue balls and my eye is still hanging from its socket so I dismount the terrified wiener child cop and turn toward these other two who've just shown up. They have their batons out like they're actually going to do shit to me. One of them is panting like a dog. The other is drooling and mumbling something about pants and horses. I took advantage of the moment and pulled this little 9mm stinger I keep sewed into the side of my ball sac and fired at them six times. The panting idiot took the first two in the forehead and went to his knees then faceplanted on the cement in a cloud of red. The second took off one of his shoes and threw it at me then took off running and threw his baton at me over his shoulder. I took aim with the stinger and hit him three times in the ass and he squealed, "WOOHOO WOOHOO WOOHOO!" like fucking Roger Rabbit each time he was hit. The bullets didn't stop him but this big ass street sign that said "HUMAN WASTE" with a little picture of a guy shitting did. He ran right into the god damned pole and knocked himself out. Well, I took this opportunity to milk his penguin and after consuming several lukewarm grogs of baby batter, puking four or eighteen times, I decided I'd had enough of this shithole. I stole one of the Lancers and made my way the 10 miles or so to the airport and bought myself a ticket to Beijing since I had business there anyway and I'm not even sure my cousins remembered me.

This is late evening, March 7th, 2014.

At KLIA, I ditched the Lancer in a nearby field and after huffing ipratropium bromide for a good forty minutes, I made my way into the tICKETING. This little dink of a woman was standing on a stack of phonebooks. She must've been three feet tall. Her eyes were looking in two different directions and she never spoke, she just moaned and farted a few times. I paid for my ticket with one of those cops' credit cards and pissed on the scale when this little man with a bulbous face asked if I had any luggage. "TAKE THAT WITH US WE MIGHT NEED IT" I sprayed at him. He whimpered and ran away like a rat when the lights turn on.

So I hobble through this fucking terminal and I stop by Burger King for two or three whoppers that I proceed to shove into my pants because it's a long trip you know and these mammoth fucking cockroaches start falling out of my trousers and it's making me sick so I puke and the entirety of my vomit consists of human semen, which makes me puke again and this small Chinese family is screaming and batting at me with these little toy umbrellas and I'm all "KNOCK IT THE (BURP) FUCK OFF (HICCUP) YOU FUCKING GOOKS (BELCH)" and this just makes them more angry so I have to pull out these mangled whoppers and the buns are all torn apart and I start chucking these things like Randy Fucking Johnson and one of them hits the little man of the Chinese family and makes this squeal and it sounds like a fart, but then I realize it is a fart and it smells like fish sauce which makes me puke again and I slip in the puke. Next thing I know is I'm being chased by all this security and they have these tasers that keep bouncing off my flapjacks and setting things on fire. I finally make it aboard this god damn bus and it's packed and stuffy and I'm pissed and covered in semen vomit. I picked out a seat at random and passed out in my own stool.

Well, I guess I was unconscious for a while because when I came to I was duct taped to a board in the luggage compartment. I squirmed around a little bit but the pressure on my belly caused me to burp a little semen and it stank so I got really violent and started thrusting with my dangling hog sword and I bust this terrible nut and it goes through my jincos, through the duct tape and blows a hole in the side of the fuselage. I was able to get out of the dinky restraints (obviously put together by some blind faggot from Carlsbad) and I rolled over to grab onto this pipe that was jutting out of the floor. I noticed my Rolex read 1:22 am. Well as this fucker depressurized, I made my way upwards and found most of the passengers unconscious or rambling incoherently. I bashed one bumbling motherfucker in the bing bang bags and he fell over crying and summarily passed out. Well, I slowly hiked up to the cockpit and found the door open. So I go in and scream "IT'S MARDIS GRAS YOU FUCKING ANIMALS!" and both pilots are slumped over the wheel, moaning. El Capitan sort of rolls his eyes around trying to look at me when I pull his dumb ass out of the seat and take control.

I love flying these big birds you know because it reminds me of Vietnam. Speaking of Vietnam, I can see we're passing overhead so I change altitude, heading and speed for just a nicker of a moment so I can get a better view of the jewel of southeast asia. Well, the communications are all going haywire and I can hear the cabin phone ringing off the hook so I decided it was time to jump ship. I crawled down the main isle like a demon dog from downtown hell, snorting and really farting it up until I found the drink cart. I had me forty little bottles of Bacardi and shit myself AGAIN before sawing a hole in one of the bathroom floors. After sawing further through more shit and shit, it must've taken me 5 hours, I finally fashioned a big enough hole to squeeze through the bottom of the aircraft. Not knowing where in the fuck I was, I could only see ocean, I let out a long and acid-filled belch and kissed Flight 370 goodbye somewhere over the South China Sea.

I landed on my ass in choppy seas near Thailand where I survived on shark and jelly fish until I commandeered a freighter headed for Moscow. I took my time with the crew, using their rectums as depositories for my phlegm. Two weeks later I'm bartending in some shithole outside Moscow and have contracted mutant genital warts and have a Raiders tattoo on my forehead. Last time I fly that fucking airline I swear to god.

One morning

Catherine de' Medici at the gates of the Louvre

Have you ever humped the brains out of a noblewoman? Neither have I. Rank cunt was no noblewoman. Perhaps the history books have recorded her in a bad light. Maybe not. Regardless, Catherine de' Medici was one bulbous bonk of a fuckwad. She used to moan like a diseased cow, shuddering when my veiny parking cone sausage broke out her two front teeth from behind. You see in those days, if you lost your teeth, there wasn't much to be done. But as Medici was a powerful hoe, no one knew the difference. I crafted her some wooden teeth from my excess tuna cheese, painted them with my horrid schlop splatter and the rest is not history. I left a steaming morsel of dungaree donut on her forehead and jerked the moldy cheese log to an old issue of Time magazine.

If you asked me today how the hell I got mixed up in all this bullshit, I couldn't pretend to tell you. Paris back then was a different place, you know? No sweet stanky inky pinky doodoo nonos littering the streets. No turkish prosts to pee into. No warm fucking baguette syrup squeegee for the sperm Tupperware. It was dangerous. I mean, every fucker seemed to be on edge and rightfully so. There was this real big wedding taking place earlier in the week and all these assholes WERE at one another's throats. The Huguenot's who were Calvinist Protestants, hated Catholics like penis on a platter in a kindergarten class. Paris was a violently anti-Huguenot city, and Parisians, who were extreme Catholics, found their presence in the city unacceptable. Even if I cornholed the king during the bachelor party...and his moist ostler faggot.

a FEW DAYS prior my fucked up tale, I took a pop shot at Coligny. Admiral Gaspard II de Coligny was the Huguenot leader. This dink couldn't hold his liquor for shit and was really annoying. Anyway he was in town for the wedding and Cathy wanted Coligny dead and I don't mean from old age. The hit was in exchange for some sweating cocaine. So I took the deal. Coligny took it like the fag that he was and I blamed it on some turgid asshole NAMED cHUCK. I had been drinking. When I took the shit, I mean shot, it was a glance shot and ricocheted off this fucking gargoyle statue and ended up severing Coligny's right index finger. I began to shout from frustration but released a sopping wet belch instead. All these idiots went scrambling around and screaming their heads off like retards in a harry potter gift shop. "Stop that man!" someone cried so I bolted from this fucking villa thing and my stupid pumpkin breeches are around my ankles so I fell on my fucking FACE. FUCK. I screamed out "JUMANJI!!" and lay waste to the crowd with a volley of skin-crawling flatulence, then I disappeared into the back alleys that snaked the city like cum from a chip and dale creamery.

Medici was pissed. Nana cooze. I called her Cathy and that pissed her off something awful. Lol. She was a real conniving cunt and loved LOVED blowing smoldering farts in the tub the would make your cheeks balloon with puke if you weren't careful. Cathy was a Medici and if you don't know the Medici's then you don't know your history. They're pretty much the Bilderberg Group. Well she's hollering and whooping up a storm and has my cravat by a claw, when I suddenly blurt out "Where's mom? Is dad at the factory?" SHe stopped shouting and furrowed her gnarly brow, then said, "Whut." To which I replied, "Where's my mother and father?" Cathy seemed intrigued. "Whut." She said again. When I sensed curiosity I darted from her weakening grasp. She was beyond startled. "Wait, where are you going?!" Bounding down the stone breezeway, shoeless, pantless and hard, I bellowed over my shoulder, "TO FIND MY PARENTS!!" I didn't go back to Cathy's sweet womb ever again after that night, but what ensued thereafter was some sexy, fucked up dogshit let me tell you.

This is the night of 23–24, August, 1572.

WOOOOO!! WOOOOOHOOOOOO!!!! I'm screaming my fucking head off, hanging from some god damned stone gutter thing about three stories in the air, pissing all over these helmeted dongles running asunder, murdering every Protestant in sight. Man I was having a good time. Smoke and blood were in the air. There was vomit, shit and guts in the streets and women and children burning alive in piles the size of my dick flanking the fair city of lights. It was my kind of party. AND ALL on the eve of the feast of St. Bartholomew. It was, after all, the Anglican Communion and I loved me some sacramental wine and giblets. So I am literally hanging from the rafters and hollering and hooting and shit and the whole fucking city is going nuts. So I decided it was time to go and find that ssstinky fishSTICK, Coligny and finish him off. Maybe deepthroat him. Well the duganberry was holed up in this little palace shack with his hurt lil finger and bum bum. The king was kind enough to offer me a legion of his swiss guard (bunch of tight wearing motherfuckers) and we headed over to Coligny's sex pad through the chaos. It was beautiful.

So we burst in through this mammoth door and I'm screaming, "WHO THE FUCK INSTALLED THIS GOD DAMN THING?? SOMEONE COULD GET HURT!" because I hurt my nono sacks on the knob because I was thrusting so hard to bang it down. Everyone was so bewildered at my craziness and there was this weird pause in the battle as they stared at me, so I just started murdering fools with my shit stained mace. Coligny was still in bed, and he was calling out to his guards to "Sieze them!" but he was also crying like a little bitch. I bounded over this frobble of a man who was in a ball, whimpering in a puddle of his own puke, and onto the bed where I sang, "I PROCLAIM THIS BED MY FUCK TOWN." Then I thrust my dagger into Coligny's breast while reciting lines from the "Air Force One" script through my teeth. Coligny squeezed his eyes in pain and his lower lip shuddered like a running lawnmower. I came. All around me there was sword play and death as the king's men took out the Huguenots in the room. A torrid leak of smelt was making its way from my ass crack and causing some real terrible smells, so I wrested the Admiral from his bloodstained bed and declared, "COLIGNY NOW BELONGS TO MY SEXUAL PLANTAIN." Then I chucked the dying man from the two story window and into the streets below where he was summarily beheaded by an angry mob of catholics. My duty was done. It was time to collect my reward. "SWEEEEEET CHEWY!!" I began to scream. The kings men had had enough of me. They cleaned off their bloodied swords and left the room shaking their heads. I hurriedly crawled from the room, whinnying like a mad horse and they quickly got out of my way.

For the next week, I spent my time in delirium, bludgeoning to death anything and everyone with my hong kong bingo pole. It was a wild haze. I tried so hard to make my way back to Cathy for my sweet sweet chewy, but I simply could not make it through all that shit. In the end, the St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre took the lives of some 5,000 protestants. All because Cathy wanted just a lil extra power so she convinced the KING to strike first before the Huggernuts attacked because I had tried to kill Coligny but I did anyway and this fucking mouse of a king was good with it so he did it even though they were friends or lovers or something. One night while I was ENOYING a poopoo platter buffet from her warty vagina, she told me in detail how she wanted to rule the world. I recall spinning violently and ripping a real horrible fart into her open piss cave. I filled her up so much that shit clouds were puffing out of her ears. We held each other into the night. Well, she thought she was holding me. Once she passed out I snuck out and shoved a dead AND ROTTING marsupial into her arms so I could get loaded at the local transvestite club. Came to about a year later missing one of my arms, neck deep in horse urine behind some food cart on the beach in St. Tropaz. 

Dyatlov Pass

The Dyatlov Pass Incident

You don't have to be fucking Steph Davis to know that I have some mountaineering experience. In 2010, I'd nearly summitted Everest. I spent some time in the late teens working with Sherpa dumb-dogged shit heels. A grand scheme moving heroin from Pakistan into Xinjiang, China. Trick of the trade was, I'd shoot the heroin into my limp noodle hose somewhere along the way and replace the dope with my alone time slime. Then I'd abandon the buyers after feigning retardation. Did it for years.

So when Igor Alekseievich Dyatlov approached me with the fine job of leading a team of Ural Polytechnical Institute assholes into the Northern Ural Mountains for some fucked up ski-trip, I told him to "go fuck {him}self." However, I accepted after he offered me his dog goat and hist sweet scumbag of a mother-in-law. She has a mustache like Stalin, but I let her shove some blini up my sex tunnel, while I force-fed her rolled up bits of dog goat shit.

I'd brought with me a portable dvd player I'd plundered from a doped up faggot in Tulane, which was fairly novel for a bunch of retarded buttholes from 1959. I only had one dvd though, and it was fucking Single White Female. I was actually watching the piece of shit and jerking the horse howitzer real hard when Dyatlov humped into my shithole rat fuck apartment near the Kama River. He offered me this shit piece of paper with handwriting that looked like he'd scrawled it using his dingus. You see this was before thE whole god damn fiasco in April 1959, with that fucking overhaul of the credit system. Some wing wong decided it would be a good idea to transfer operations run by the Selkhozbank, Tsekombank and municipal banks to the State Bank. That Kruschev was a real bonehead and I swear to god he used homeless fecal smear to wash his bottom. I was in the middle of the scene where Steven Weber is brushing his horse hair nono rags against Bridget Fonda's butterball thighs, so I very politely rolled my eyes upward at this mumbALOId cocksucker, snatched the bond from his crippled claw and said simply, "Try any sleight of hand with my money and I'll cut your throat." But by the time I cashed his shit check, he and all eight of the party would be dead.

This is late January, 1959.

We started out in the wee hours of the morn toward the mountain of the dead. We all go on this god damn train shit car that smelled of vodka and cigarettes. I was so bloated and hungover that I was vomiting this vile tincture of lung butter and rat filth non-stop. I recall one of our party lunging at me and begging me to stop. But you know me, I whipped him silly in the clowncakes with my flea penis. He screamed and I cried and the others turned their heads in their seats like fucked-up sealions, befuddled by this RADICAL behavior. Someone in the party uttered something to the tune of "Oh god" and I spun like a crab on steroids and howled at them that I was " THE KING OF ANGELS" and then I produced a rotting frog head and I chomped on it like a god damn corn dog. One of the men threw up and it looked and smelled like borscht. I just kept screaming my inanities whilst harassing the clown car matron with my pecker pump for more drinks.

After what seemed like forty years, we arrived in the shithole called Ivdel. Place looked like Disneyland if it were designed by Franz Kafka and then shitted out by Crang from the Ninja Turtles. I'd arranged for this piece of shit wagon to pick us up and drive our asses to Vizhai.

So it went on like this for sometime before I aimed us in the direction of Sverdlovsk Oblast. "You fiends!" I kept bellowing. Again and again, I would shout this unprovoked and indiscriminate. I also couldn't help cawing, "BAD BABY BAD BABY" whilst slurping on the burb horn. Christ.The goal of this faggot expedition was to reach Otorten (Отортен), a mountain 10 kilometres (6.2 mi) north of us and I'll tell you right now, I was fucked up. Instead of food or anything really, I'd brought with me fourteen gallons of Zima wine cooler AND I was sucking it down like it was cum from a cow. MOOOOOOOOO!! I had this dinky boombox that I'd pilfered from a real choice cocksucker at a Walgreens in 1998. Unfortunately, the only god damn tape I had for the fucking thing was a warbled UB40 greatest hits mix. "Can't help falling in love" was the only song that would play and somehow the piece of shit tape stuck on repeat not to mention I'd passed out heavily the night before and bashed my fucking stupid brain bucket on that boombox and busted the volume knob so it was stuck on high. I didn't mind though. This one asshole, Yuri, he was complaining nonstop. Waaaah Waaaah the motherfucker. Whereas not one of these dicksmears could quite comprehend the origin of this "magic box" and so asked no questions (fairly sure the very real fact that I'd had my corn blower hanging through the zipper of my over-pleated chinos didn't help) this asshole wouldn't shut the fuck up about it. "Why do you play this music again? What does this music have to do with our hike? Why do you play this?" Fucking cream hole.

Well it went on like this for some time until we finally started our march toward Otorten from Vizhai on January 27. At some point in the night, after the others had retired, I slipped into Yuri's sleeping bag and gave him a heavy dose of heroin. I shot it behind his left ear while he slept. He slipped into coma almost immediately and I spent the remainder of the night boning him in the ass. The next morning when he came to, I was still asleep. He then apparently vomited violently all over my naked muffins and went scrambling from the camp muttering something about his brother. The others were plenty confused, but no one was suspicious of me. I explained that "he might have chowed on some bad powdered eggs." They bought that. But Yuri was gone. He was too fucked up to go any further. This also meant that I could play my UB40 tape again. And that was cool. So I did. Non stop. I mean I would get looks here and there and I could read their expressions. I knew it waS driving them all bad shit crazy, which just tickled me so pink.

It took us three days of trekking along the base of that god damn mountain before we reached the edge of a highland area and got our snotty asses ready to climb. It was funny, as a prank I'd discarded all the food in a small ravine when no one was watching. I replaced it with lumps of animal turd I'd collected along the way. It was hilarious. This assfunk, Nicolai (god what a fucking retard) he goes in for dinner and shrieks like a fucking mouse rat when he pulls out his poopy paws. I seriously LOLd. When he pulled out his hand covered in rat shit, he rolled over in the snow like a sack of potatoes and began whimpering like the little pussy faggot he was. We all laughed cuz it was so god damn funny. I did a crab-like pivot and sharted in his ear and the others REALLY enjoyed that one. Although I couldn't tell if it was nervous laughter because I'd unprovokingly threatened them the night before with a small pistol I'd stolen from a cop in Vizhai. It's ok though because I'd been drinking Zimas like the fucking fucked up alcoholic troll that I am.

So by the 1st of February, the others were pretty weary of me. It went from an occasional gasp, or plea, to non-stop side glances and general avoidance. I got to farting something awful the last couple days on that mountain. My skivvies had blown open from the explosive gas and this real nasty vile was leaking down my legs like a fucking firehose. One of the two women with us vomited at least twice after taking a peek at my mansucker. So we started through the pass, but I'd brought with me a mason jar of Polonium-210 that I'd opened up early in the day you know just to huff as I walked. The UB40 was really starting to get on my nerves so I chucked that fucking boombox into a crevasse and said a short prayer before jerking off. It was during this point that I decided to murder them all because honestly I was pretty fucking bored. So I drew out in crayon new directions, which deviated us west, upward towards the top of Kholat Syakhyl. Igor Dyatlov suggested we head south to the treeline about a mile to the south of us for better cover. It was starting to snow fairly heavily by then so visibility was pretty piss poor. But fuck that, I was wearing black out sunglasses and a fake mustache so I didn't give a flying fuck. Well with the fucking weather getting worse and us now going the wrong way, I figured it'd be a swell time to get the tinkertoy spinning.

So we set up our tent and I make some hot dog porridge, cow mucus with lung butter ramen and iguana semen mixed with vinegar then a nice little cat LIVER and feces mousse that I'd fried up, you know just as an appetizer. We ate. Four of those pussy assholes barfed. The others didn't really even eat much after their first gagging bites. One of them threw his dinner on the ground and bolted into the snow where he fell to his knees and barfed his guts out. I don't know what the big deal was. I thought the food was perfect. So there were a lot of panting, gagging, stomach groaning and retching noises coming from our tent that evening from the few who'd eaten my dinner.

During the night, after we'd bunked down, was when I decided to strike. I quietly undressed. The stink coming from my growler made me lightheaded and this bitch next to me sorta scrunched her nose and moaned a little in her sleep. I then slowly slid on my elvin heels and began to sing. I chose Utesov, this bullshit jazz singer who a few years later would go on to become the first pop singer to bE awarded the title of People's Artist of the USSR. He was a mumbaloid motherfucker, but I figure if I bellowed out some of his crap, it would be more likely to freak the others out. Immediately you could hear the others squirming in their sleeping bags as they woke to this insanity, I turned on my flashlight and held it under my chin like a fucking mad man. I was shaking my hair and getting really into it when my ass began talking. The flatulence thereafter was mind-numbing. Someone belched. I heard another chorus of vomiting. Everyone was struggling in the tent and I heard low squealing. I just sang louder and began twirling my pecker like it was a fucking helicopter rotor. Dyatlov started first, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING SIR? WHY DO YOU DO THIS NOW?"

I'm not sure who it was, but one of these dinks is screaming their head off and flailing like they're falling from a building. It got serious then because I started pissing during this nasty dick spin so it was like a fucking industrial sprinkler with backflow device fucked up. I remember it was steaming. So everyone is screaming now. I mean really screaming. So one of these idiots pulls their knife and slashes their way out of the tent. "OH MY GOD" he said as scrambled into the night. The tent collapsed at this point and they all poured out, one by one. Screaming as they stumbled away into the snow. I bounded from the shredded tent like a fucked up maniac, hose still twirling like a god damn length of sweaty nunchuck. I could hear them all, still screaming their brains out, the one guy still going "OH MY GOD OH MY GOD." I lunged into the snowy darkness with alarming speed and tackled the first idiot I hit. It was Rustem Slobodin. He spun beneath me, and his eyes were wide in terror. I bashed him hard with the butt of my flashlight then frantically shoved snow down his throat until he stopped moving. He died with his eyes open.

I shined my light down the hill toward the woods. I saw Dyatlov and some other piece of shit struggling in the snow. I dove at them head first, but I'd switched to Bonnie Raitt's "Something to Talk About." Dyatlov was begging me to stop. Between the awful gagging noises he was making he would also holler, albeit muffled, "PLEASE OH SWEET MOTHER OF GOD IT SMELLS SO BAD!" (Referring to my ass of course.) I held each of their faces in the snow and sat on their heads, smothering them to death. I could barely make out the shapes of three others although I knew there were still five faggots out there. I charged the three and when they spotted me they went apeshit. "HOLY GOD SAVE US!" I again switched up my music choice, this time going with ABBA's "Take a Chance." Again, visibility was super limited, but all I had to do was follow Lyudmila, the woman's screams. It didn't take me long to catch up with them. The two bros were mumbling something about getting back to camp. I knocked their heads together with such force I accidentally crushed one of their skulls. Then I threw them over the edge into a deep ravine.

Lyudmila was on her back, hands in the air, shrieking some bullshit about her mother. I backhanded her and tore open her britches with my talon hands. My lips snarled into a menacing grin as I revealed two incomplete rows of molding teeth. She began to sob heavily. I took my time with her. The 23 year old blonde beauty. Her sobbing was really ruining my drive. After the brutal performance, I gouged her eyes out (they slid out neatly under the blade of my knife and made little popping sounds as the optic nerve split), cut the tongue out of her head and threw her alive into the ravine after her buddies. I chucked one of her eyes and her tongue over the edge as well, then popped the other in my mouth to chew on. I peed over the edge and it smelled like McDonald's as my mouth filled with Lyudmila's Vitreous gel.

I spent a good twenty minutes searching for the last two of our party on the Mountain of the Dead that evening, but had no luck, so I split. They were found later frozen to death, in their underwear, having had no time to dress when they were so startlingly awoken by my horrible helicoptering. I looted a pair of skis and headed down chugging Zimas the whole thrilling way. I did hit a cedar tree about the time the sun was coming up and may or may not have broken a few ribs. But that shit didn't matter, because I felt alive.

There are plenty of theories about what happened that night in February, 1959. But now you know.
I spent the rest of the year pretending to be a yogurt salesman, but it was actually just HORSE semen.