worst hangover EVER

The North Hollywood Shootout

It was February, '97. Fuck me. It's was still only February. I remember waking up about 9:30 in the morning with the hangover from God's smoted penis bulldozer. I mean I felt as if my eyes were going to be sucked out of my asshole and shot into a concrete wall at the speed of sound.

Anyway, my phone was ringing ringing oh my god I ignored it as long as I possibly could, but I was living in this real shit hole in the Garden Green apartments. I mean christ it was like living inside of a dead nutria. My phone sat in the other room and the answering machine was off. But this fucker wouldn't let up. I mean the thing rang for what seemed like two years. Finally, FINALLY I shot out of bed. "YOU HAM-HANDED BITCH!" I remember shouting, empty forty bottles falling out of my covers and clanking all over the floor scaring the shit out of my pet wiener child. (Fuck what the hell was I doing with so many forty bottles in my bed anyhow.) Ring ring, the plastic bitch. I crashed into the glass coffee table knocking over this castle of pearl jam cds I'd stolen from some lil punk the day before. I answered the phone, calm and collected. "First, whomever this is, I want to be very clear, I am going to find you, rip off your tongue with my ass, jab my pinkies into your nostrils and pull your heart out with my dick. Now, that being said...WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT!??" The other end was silent for a moment, maybe a few seconds. Then a stumbling voice uttered, "Roy...erm, there's a situation. We're calling everyone in." Oh JESUS I thought. It's my god damned day off. (It wasn't my day off, but I planned on waking up and drinking all day so technically it was my day off.) I rubbed my forehead and was momentarily horrified to smell and then see a large clump of dog shit caked to my forefinger. "Yeah yeah okay what the hell is it?" "10-13 shots fired at Bank of America. We need you down there." "Fuck you." I hung up and waddled back to bed. The pile of shit immediately starts to ring again. "HOLY ANUS," I was inconsolable. I wrested the phone from it's cradle and screamed "OKAY YOU CREAMY RAT SHIT I'M ON MY WAY!" then slammed the phone back down so hard an end shattered.

Well, after a light meal of corn flakes and vodka (milk was curdled but I used it anyway) and several Irish car bombs, I stumbled out of my asshole and toward my car. I remember it was fuckin' hot outside. Sweaty and real nasty. I barfed outside the call box, a fountain of yellow foam. These little turds stopped playing shit ball to stare. I almost fell into them while yelling "THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT YOU LITTLE BROWN RATS?!" They scuttled away squealing in laughter. I fumbled around my pockets for my keys, produced a used condom, barfed again and fell into the driver's side door. Eventually, I found the keys shoved into the toe of my boot, but it wasn't until I decided to have a cool-down beer or seven at the local watering hole.

So I'm driving, I'm driving and eventually I start seeing signs for I-5 and I'm like god damnit because I realized I'd been driving the wrong way. I pulled a U turn and flipped on my overhead. Well the radio had been off so I flipped that on too, vomited all over the dashboard and belched a good four minute gas bomb. The radio was blaring a shit show. Unbelievable crap. Of course. Of course this shit is happening when all I want to be doing is jerking it in a park while staring at old women and their crotch rocket horses and consuming an ungodly amount of tequila. Ugh. Fuck me. Well I know where this bank is because I used to run an atm scam there. It was the only place I found that would allow you to deposit an empty envelope and claim there was like a thousand bones in there and then just complain and be mad when the bank says there was no cash in it. It worked for years.

Regardless, I pull the cruiser up onto a sidewalk near the grocery store and over this hydrant, topple the shit water fucker over and this geyser of water comes spraying up and through my hood. "MOTHER FUCKER!" I shout at the top of my lungs. I barely noticed the seven rounds that had pierced my windshield and shredded my passenger seat. I went to grab my Old E 24oz can sitting right fucking there and low and motherfucking hold there's a smoking hole in it and the can is empty. I saw red. Sure the beer had been there for at least 48 hours and was most likely syrup by then what with all the heat and everything, but still...there is soon to be one less cock sucking maggot in the world. I jerked violently from my cruiser to the sweltering pavement and drew my service pistol. At first I couldn't see shit. I just saw the glare from all the cars in the grocery store parking lot. Then I hear this POP POPPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOOOP!! and I turn and there's this goliath asshole in all black pumping an AK-47 at me. My cruiser is being turned to cottage cheese and I'm standing there like a retard. Well, of course, I barfed again because loud noises like that really don't help my hangovers. I raised my pistol and fired several rounds at this jaggaloon but they just bounce off of him. "YOU GUNK DICK!" I screamed at him, then ducked behind a nearby cement wall for cover.

There were other LAPDs there, lots of em. I sort of came to you know because I was pretty buzzed. I noticed helicopters and sirens all over the place. Great this is worse than I thought. Well I puked again, purposely, all over this injured cop. He was whimpering. I flipped him off and checked my remaining rounds. Shit, three. I knew I didn't have any more magazines because I'd been drunk driving last week with my uncle and we were shooting up parked cars for a few hours before dawn. POPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOP!! all around me, striking the wall, pinging off light-poles and signs. Some dinkle dick is yelling "THERE'S TWO SUSPECTS WE CAN'T DROP THEM WE CAN'T DROP THEM!!" I told the sniveling ass master to shut his shit and I back handed him. He started to cry. Well just then I was about to shove my horn into his gaping volcano when I noticed this firearm shop. "Holy mother of god" I said and ran over to it. I kicked in the front door, shattering glass all over myself and a bunch of it went into my crotch because my pants were undone.

Anyway, the store owner is there and he's screaming at me to get out so I gagged him with a clump of gargonzola I found in my pit and he passed out. I grabbed a bazooka from off of the wall and headed back out to the shit circus. I see the doofus twins circling one another, just pedal to the medal. What assholes I thought. They were just holding their triggers down spraying every which way. "YOU PANSY COCK LOVERS!" I screamed and zeroed in on the ass loves. I fired. The rocket went awry, way way up and then crashed into a parked car about 400 yards to my left. GOD DAMNIT. The vehicle exploded with an earth shaking BOOM and a mini mushroom cloud of smoldering car and ash went into the air. I threw up again and lit a cigarette. The two crooks stopped firing for a minute, hell everyone stopped firing for a minute. There was this weird silence as everyone gawked at the explosion. I bellowed "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU STARING AT?!" and stormed back into the gun store. There was an AR-15 on the wall. Fuck it. So I pulled that bitch down and came out of that shop hollering and firing away at the goons. BAMABABBABAMBAMABMABAM I don't remember how many times I fired. I know I was hitting these fuckers cuz I could see bits of flame and smoke zing and smolder across their silhouettes.

Well they separated, run away like little mice. I ducked behind an ice cream shop to yank on the crank wagon for a spell because all the excitement got me boontown ready if you know what I'm saying. By the time I come, I'm pretty sure it's all over. One of the gorillas is dead and another one is in custody. I walk over to the live one, piss on his head and tell him it's the worst hang over I've ever had. He told me to fuck myself so I pulled this hot mama from my pants and shoved it into his hole. He cried. I told the other officers to fuck THEMselves and went to look for my car. Well the piece of shit was shot to shit. I bused it home, bought an 18 pack of tecate, drank it in my shower and passed out near the toilet after vomiting.

I was awarded the Los Angeles Police Department Medal of Merit two days later.

Penn. 68th Regiment

The American Civil War

The following excerpts were taken from a leather bound diary discovered in the walls of a Louisville home in the summer of 1987.

September 14, 1863
Entry 34

On the shit since the 7th off and on and are now huddled near Middletown, MD. I been had the shits like fifty negro fists been growing from my crack. According to reports sent to me on assy toilet paper, we are attached to Reno’s Division of Gen. Burnside’s 9th Corps. When I read this I flipped my shit, fired my musket in the air and burned up our field surgeon's tent. Was some little fighting yesterday between us and the rebels under Jackson near Frederick, MD. I stood on a crumbling fence and whirled my hat around whooping and hollering like a mad bitch. Some of the fighters stopped and turned to look at me but I'd hidden a cannon full of grape shot in the bushes so when they mooned me I lit the fucker off and filled the white assholes full of lead. They laid in the field whining like horses. I laughed until my brains fell out in the toilet.

September 16th, 1863
Entry 35

I smuggled some lsd into the regiment and we had a fucking party. I beat to death a young private, then forced Captain Reno to rape the corpse at gun point. What a ham.

December 24th, 1983
Entry 36

Go ducks or roast beef in the TENT cocaine from fuKCIN LARRY

September 20th, 1863
Entry 37

Real fucking eary was opened with the farting of cannon and during the day, assholes have been passing by our camp in one continued line. I keep sneaking up on the youngsters and pantsing them. It's gross because many of them are suffering from anal grout, among other nauseating sicknesses. It is hard to feel it the Sabbath. I only say this because I was smoking a ralph doobie and a lot of the assholes wanted a hit and instead I beat down this dumb ass stable ossler just to show everyone I am man. Prospects of our getting into action before night multiply causing a sort of feverish excitement to come over me. I barfed and barfed until the light of dawn and we are low on rations (we aren't I just been hiding all the food for my fat pimply ass). Help me my dinky Father to do my shittin' in style for the glory of Christ’s sake, Amen. I will masturbate to your glorious bone.

September 21st, 1863
Entry 38

In one of the churches of the town is some of the rebel retards from the battle of yesterday. I took turns with my men, pissing and shitting on each and every man on the floor. Tears come into my eyes as I think of home and of the peaceful Sabbath there enjoyed. FaGGOTS

(Several pages torn out)October 29th, 1863
Entry 39

Weeks have gone by since writing last. They have been shitty ones to me, full of God’s stinking goodness and turkey. I have been stoned out of my mind. A good deal of the time I have been unable to write. Instead I've been drawing charicatures of Jerry Lee Lewis and Don King. The remaining time I have been indisposed to it, mostly because of this horrendous diarrhea many of us have contracted due to the shit burritos I made a month ago. At near 4 PM September 22nd our brigade was ordered to the front by some drunkard with a wand. I told him to go take a shit, but my boys just ran off in the direction this shitbird was pointing that god damn wand. Where did he get that wand, I wonder. Anywho, a rough march of some 4 miles brought us to the scene of conflict. I stopped for a beer at this little hut, built into the side of a river. Some crazy bastard was selling hooch out of the shoes of dead soldiers. I only stayed for about two hours. I stumbled my runny ass back up the river back and on my way I met many wounded being carried to the rear and as we neared the battleground here and there a dead body was to be seen. I went through as many pockets as possible and came up with about forty cents. THAT pissed me off. At little after 5 PM, the booming of artillery the screaming of shot and shell and rattling of musketry told me we were mid the stern realities of actual battle. I began shouting semantics and other unpleasantries at the passing troops. Then, the sight of the dead a kind sent me into a violent, rancid, vomiting spiral. Main feelings of curiosity and wonder at the scene about me took hold of my mind and I found myself jerking the horn again. After dousing my rancid erection with soldering fluids I'd "ganked" from some dickhead's shit wagon, we were drawn up in the line of battle in a cornfield. We all advanced through a sort of wooden field to a thick wood where we met the rebel scum or a few scattering dumbfucks with toilet paper tails in tow, for their main body was on the retreat. In entering the wood came upon a large number of rebel dead lying in a ravine, presenting a sad and sickening sight I shooed in my pantaloon with such force, my britches opened like a bursting damn sending several of my comrades to the rear of our flank. A drowsiness washed over me and must of passed out because I remember nothing of the remainder of the day.

October 30th, 1863

Entry 40

When I came out of my whoreish trance, the Confederates were making an advance upon our lines. My ex-husband, Rolf, pulled my up by the crotch and shoved me toward the ravine where everyone in the battalion was keeled over, wretching into the gaping hole. "Still my burritos?" I said a fright, but Ralph only pushed me on. But when crossing the ravine, we were met by a volley from the 17th Michigan which so thinned our ranks that on that part of our line we made a precipitate retreat. Some idiot came dancing by me screaming "LOOK IMA JELLYCOPTER!" For the fun of it, I tripped him and he went head over heels, screaming those ridiculous words, down into the trench of hell. Some douchebag in a plaid skirt with a sword the size of my house yelled at us to take cover in the wood. I put out the bob marley I was sucking on for dear life and charged after my retreating countrymen. Just after we entered the wood, some cronk bone ripped the nastiness and I was distracted. I blame that sonofawhore to this day. Was wounded by a rifle ball passing through my left leg just opposite the pulsating flesh pipe. As the ball struck me it gave me a shock which led me to feel at first that the bone must have been struck and shattered and for a moment did not dare to move for fear it was so. "YOOU PONTIFICATING HORSE COK!" I belched into the sky. Found on moving that the bone was not injured and that I had only a flesh wound, which relieved my mind and thankfulness to God that I was not maimed or dangerously hurt came, especially after the 25 ccs of heroin I shot into my left eye. Convinced that the shot must have been fired by some straggling rebel numbnut or sharpshootin' shitbird in a tree, as we had not yet got up to within reach of the rebel lines, I writhed with a vengeance. After masturbating fiercely to a torn postcard of my brother-in-law and his small dog, "Groldo" I leaped up and began to run at the rebel donks. Found myself in a few moments growing weak and tying my jockstrap above the wound to stop its bleeding tried to make for the rear where the surgeons were. As I was limping off a wounded rebel who was sitting against a tree called me and asked me if I did not have something to eat. Exhibiting a loaf and going to him I opened my knife to cut off a slice when he placed his hands before his face exclaiming “Don’t kill me” and begging me to put up the knife and not to hurt him. I smiled a little at the rube and produced my disgusting pecker for his approval. He shrieked in horror and held his nose. I back handed him and told him to act like a man. He did so, sheepishly as if it were his first time. I knew though, after the next three hours of loving, it was not his first. His name was Gary and I loved him. Regardless, when I finished, I shoved my musket into his crotch and said, "Blessed are those who keep their mouths shut." I pulled the trigger, a loud crack reverberating through the valley. Gary pitched forward, uttering an "OOF" before curling into a ball and blubbering about his horse or some shit before eventually passing. I urinated on his corps, cringed when a little piss dribbled into my open, pus wound. After wandering around like a madman and after grabbing many a men by the collars, shouting at them that I was "CEASAR, THE INVENTOR OF TIME" I eventually made my way into some sort of shit medical camp.

Halloween, 1863
Entry 41

On October 31st, through some sort of sick prank by the surgeon, my name was placed upon the list of those to be sent off to join their regiments and though screaming and crying about being sent away until my wound was fuckin' healed, was shipped off to the god damn Convalescent Camp at Alexandria. My wound was still dripping pus and phlegm and all sorts of shitty mess either where the ball had entered or passed out. After forcing some dainty orderly to massage my scrotum, was obliged to have it have it dressed that morning. But the surgeon rather than take the trouble to alter the “papers” he had made out told me I was a moronic, unhappy little man and that being sent of with a "diarrhea knub" was exactly what I needed. Regretted this very much for I had hoped to stay until fully well. I flipped him off while tugging on my sweat spot and off into the world A LIPPING I WENT ALL THOSE SICK BASTARDS THEY WILL PAY FOR THEIR TREACHERY. (Have had many pleasant calls upon me from whores in the city, which have brought me many delicacies especially fruit-laced condoms and meth.)

November 5th, 1863
Final Entry

Found here my quarters were to be in a crowded toilet and obliged to lie upon human and turkey filth for I believe we are in some sort of turkey farm because the retched filth foul are amok and loud and abrasive. I asked one bird to kindly not goof on my noot noots, but the assmaster did it anyway. Went to the surgeon and showing him my cornpole then asked if I could not have some quarters where I could have something or other for bedding. He told me to "go suck an egg" and that he'd "seen better." I scuffled off into the darkness, pants around my ankles, sucking my thumb and crying. They turkeys have sucked all will from my soul. Tonight I will commit the worst of all sins and kill myself by eating a turkey while he is still alive in the most raw possible way. I bid you adieu, my sweet caring rat [sic] BRANSO! MEDICCIS

Into Dim Air

Bodies on Everest

Last year I fabricated a website dedicated to helping disabled people summit Everest. Within moments of posting the fucking thing, I had a hit. Some dipshit from Florida and his dad. Well, I asked for a picture and the sum of $200,000 US. We arranged to meet outside Tulsa. This tard shows up with his dad. The dad smelled like he hadn't wiped his ass in years. I made up all this bullshit about the journey and yadayadayada. 

So I get in with some assholes from the Chinese government and pay for a couple of visas and some mountain permits and access to base camp. I stole some climbing gear from REI in a daring late night raid. I murdered a security officer in the parking lot unnecessarily. Anyway, I get all my shit together and have these two assheads buy our plane tickets. So we get on this god damn plane and fly out of SFO. The fucking plane ride was something like 20 god damn hours all told. WITH a shit layover in Vancouver. 

We get into this little shit village - the whole place smelled like rat shit. We camped there, the retards in some shit tent up the road. I found a dog tepee and was able to scrounge a few beers. Everest beers. The next day we were up earlier than I ever been in my whole fucking life. We collected some Sherpas. I wrote them all bad checks for a grand each. They were all named gooseshit or something like that. So we started out. Long fucking hike. 

We didn't even see snow for three days. I got real bad ass squirts about the second day. Some berries one of the god damned sherpas fed me. They looked like horse turd bits. I ate them, they tasted like anal sex in 108 degree weather. Well the runny ass subsided about the time we got to Base Camp. There was this hot ass australian chick, some doctor. She smelled my bullshit immediately. I made her some tea and drugged it. I boned her in her tent that night, then strangled her to death. That next morning, I woke up the retards and had a doobie. We started up the mountain about 3am. 

Did I mention I know nothing about technical climbing? Anyway, I'm playing this boom box, lot of Sublime. Lot of Sublime. And I'm singing it all into the mics. I've got my air mask on and I've cranked the o2. I'm high as a jagaloon. Well one of these bastard lil brown sherpas radios me and tells me to calm down, stop singing into the radio we need to keep the waves clear. I told him to "shut the fuck up, or else [I'd] throw his skinny ass into Tibet." Well that shut him up, plus I resolved to murder him later that day. 

Anyway, we get this call over the radio that a climber has been hurt. Some dickweed from the ASPCA or something. I laughed aloud and it made the sherpas angry again. I brandished a pistol and gave them a "watch your shit" face. The tards weren't bothering me so much. Plus those ratty sherpas were practically carrying them. So we make it to Camp one and I feel like shit. The tards passed out in their tent so I started drinking. I forced one of these sherpas, gooseshit I think his name was, to carry three 24pack cases of Tecate up. I get fucking wasted. The one sherpa who gave me shit for singing Sublime, well he starts trying to sober me up with tea and he tries to get me into a tent and he's really fucking with me so I tell him I found some extra o2 tanks around the corner ya know. Well like the dumbshit he is, he follows me and as soon as we get over this little bend, I pulled my knife and stabbed the grubby donk 37 times. He was screaming and kicking the whole time. Then, I dragged the body to the edge, and kicked it over the side. So I got back to camp, piss on the tards tent, and crash. 

When I woke up the next day, the other sherpas are screaming and yelling and I'm pissed because I have the headache from hell. I burst out of the tent to find two sherpas holding the dead body of gooseshit. Fuck. I guess what I thought was an edge, turned out to be just a small hill and the corpse ended up landing on one of the other sherpas tents. Well these assholes are flipping out, pointing their fingers at me and all this hoopla. Well I couldn't help it, their belly aching was too much so I pulled my pistol and blew their heads off. I'm a good shot. I practice at my grandparents ranch almost every weekend. Well I'd had enough. The two tards were flabbergasted, staring at me as if I were from another world. I told them to wait while I went and got help. I abandoned them, and headed down. 

A week later I find myself in a russian roulette den outside of Bangkok. I've no money and have apparently been shot in the head.