Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to live your life, however it is much more entertaining.
Always have several fake names and extra cell phones that way you never have to give out the real ones. Just make sure you don’t mix them up.
Never tell anyone you love them if they know your real name or where you live.
Never marry anyone who would have sex with you on the first date. However you should try to get a couple more dates just for the fun of it.
Remember the proper etiquette in a strip club is whoever correctly guesses what drug the stripper is on gets the lap dance.
Speaking of strip clubs if you are in a private room for a lap dance and the stripper tells you that for an extra $300 you can put it anywhere, you can, but you shouldn’t.
Any woman that you just met at a bar that offers to buy you tequila shots will probably have sex with you that night.
When drinking with a woman always drink twice as much as she does that way you can always say later that she took advantage of you. *
If you shake more than twice you’re playing with it and if you don’t a bit will dribble down your leg. It’s your call.
No matter how cracked and dry your skin is – even if it’s so obvious you can see it from space – and you are a man the lady behind the counter still thinks you are buying lotion to masturbate with. The only way to counter this is to buy tampons and some milk that way they think you were sent on an errand by your wife or girlfriend.
Always treat people with dignity and respect, unless they don’t deserve it, then don’t, unless they pay you and you need to keep that job.
If you’re over the age of 18 and don’t own at least one good suit you are failing at life. If you are over 30 and only own one good suit you are still failing.
Always remember to do your research before telling people you are a fighter pilot to impress people. The Navy doesn’t use F-14’s anymore, has never used F-15’s and a B-52 isn’t a fighter so get your facts strait or you will look like an ass. No matter how dense most of the people at the party are someone will know and they will call you on it as they should.
No matter how big you think you are she’s had better so stop worrying about it and just be happy some chick likes you.
Speaking of size; a very large cock is only impressive in porno. In the real word it is usually uncomfortable at best and painful at worst. Yeah, size matters but it’s more of a ratio between the smallest that works and the largest that works.
Getting 4 girls numbers at the same bar in one night always sounds cool and you can brag about it with your friends. The problem is you were at a bar all night and trying to remember who was who and what you talked about is next to impossible unless you were dead sober and have a very good memory. Therefor calling any of them can be risky. Basically getting more than one number is pointless since there is a very small chance you will call any one them and if you do there is a large chance you will fuck it up. But have fun and go for it.
Your ability to make a bong out of anything does not impress anyone worth impressing. Also your ability to take large amounts of any drug without getting that fucked up also does not impress anyone worth impressing.**
Hypocrisy isn’t saying one thing and doing another, that’s screwing up. Hypocrisy is saying people shouldn’t do something but saying “it’s OK when I do it”.
If you are visiting foreign countries and feel the need to lie about what country you are from you either shouldn’t be in that country or you are a little pussy bitch and your homeland would be better off if you didn’t come back.***
It’s rude to ask someone why they don’t have a boyfriend or girlfriend and never try to set them up with anyone you know. If they aren’t good enough to even date one of you least favorite acquaintances just don’t bring up the subject. The question is fine if you are only tying to find out what they like and dislike so you can help otherwise you’re just asking someone to bare their soul so you can judge, quietly. Oh so quietly…
Just because Ideology can be dangerous doesn’t mean it will. Just remember you need to continue to question and prove to yourself that it’s correct. It’s not as easy as it sounds but if you aren’t even trying you have a very big problem.
Never fish for compliments; it’s tacky and shows a lack of class.
If you’re not proud of yourself it’s your fault. but if you’re proud of yourself you better be able to prove why you should be. Prove, not justify. People can justify anything with the right amount of bullshit.
On that note. You should never have to justify your actions they should be able to speak for themselves.
Intentions mean nothing if you make it worse.
Air travel always sucks so never pay too much for it and never get on an air line that wont let you walk onto the plane with an open beer in your hand. Seriously you are always going to be late, it will always be cramped and they are going to lose your luggage but as long as it isn’t a Chinese air line or Delta and the flight attendants don’t give a crap that you walked onto the plane with your own six pack it will be the best you are going to get out of air travel.
Really fuck Delta.
When you wake up and don’t know where you are always make sure you still have your wallet and your gun. If you don’t have either you fucked up since you should always keep both hidden in place people won’t check when they try to rob your passed out ass.
If your collage major has “Studies” at the end of it, it’s worthless. People don’t major in Physics Studies, Electrical Engineering Studies, History Studies or Medicine Studies. Hell they don’t even major in Philosophy Studies and a major in Philosophy is pretty much useless. All a major in a “Studies” does if tell the rest of the world not only do you have no marketable skills any employer would ever need but you are stupid enough to spend a shit-load of money acquiering those lack of marketable skills. You can train a moron that is willing to work hard to do a lot of things but you can’t train an idiot with a sense of entitlement and bullshit college degree to do anything.
Love is like a fine wine. It’s expensive, it must be aged carefully and sipped slowly. It will also never last.
I’m joking unlike love a good wine exists and it’s much easier to get your hands on another decent bottle.
Fair fights only exist in boxing and movies.
* This will probably not hold up in court since double standards are fun.
** Yes this is from a llama that spends his free time chugging scotch and lighting hippies on fire. Fuck off.
*** exceptions can be made for people that have to travel for work or charity reasons and need to keep a low profile.
In 1874 group of archeologists on an expedition in a remote part of Columbia found the remains of an ancient city known as Kuru the center of which was a giant temple dedicated to the worship of one of their god-kings. While they could not get an exact date for the civilization they believe it lasted from between 100,000-50,000 BC. Inside the temple they found 12 tablets written in an obscure language they called Kuru and believed may be the origin of all languages in the planet (sometimes called Proto-Sapians to people who believe in the theory of one language being the basis for all languages on the planet). These tablets detailed the legend of Kuru’s greatest king who only went by the name Llama and his most trusted retainer Enrique. However when the archeologists tried to show their finding to the world the collective governments and religious authorities of the world had the knowledge suppressed and destroyed it out of for fear of the technological and philosophical advancements many of which would not be seen for decades later (if ever) so as not to throw the world into chaos and lose power. And while this story and the knowledge contained in it have been suppressed for over a century one of the assistants on the expedition and one of the few to survive the purge (who will not be named to keep his descendants safe) hid a copy of the original 12 tablets keeping it safe as well as a key to their translation. After his death the copies were passed on until now when his great, great-granddaughter finally decided to release them to the world. Being very old, not knowing who to trust with the information, not having any surviving family and not being very good with computers she gave the information to her neighbor because quote: “You’re the only fucker on this planet I don’t want to see dead”. Sadly she died before this could be published however but in her memory we will publish the first two tablets as well as the prologue while we continue to translate the other 10. Since what I am doing has the potential to throw the world into chaos and there is a real possibility that the world powers may once again try to suppress the knowledge contained here I have already taken the time to make my own copies and send them to people across the globe so in the event I “disappear” someone else can take on the task of continuing this work.
He who saw everything in the broad-boning earth, and knew what was to be known about the boning of broads.
Who had experienced what there was, and had become familiar with all things except the sickness of sobriety and child sex for of that he would have none of.
He, to whom wisdom clung like cloak, and who dwelt together with Existence in Harmony
He knew the secret of things and laid them bare and laid them well. And told of those times before the Flood. In his city, Kuru, he made the walls, which formed a rampart stretching on
And the great pub called Eanna’s Bar and Grill, which was the house of Ane, the Whiskey God
And also of Inanna’s, Goddes of Love and Scotch
Look at it even now: where cornice runs on outer wall shining brilliant copper -see,
There is no inner wall; it has no equal. Touch the threshold – ancient. Approach the palace called Eanna’s Bar and Grill.
There lives Inanna, Goddess of Love and Scotch. No Llama since has accomplished such deeds and no man could hope too
Climb that wall, go in Kuru, walk there, I say, walk there bitches
See the foundation terrace, touch then the masonry – Is not this of burnt brick, the skulls of his enemies, And good? I say;
The seven Brewmasters laid its foundation. One third is city; One third is orchards; One third is the great breweries of old – drunk -on land of the Inanna’s Bar and Grill search these three parts, find the copper gun safe
Open it. Open its secret fastening. Take out the zmithe-Vessoon tablets. Read aloud from it
Read how Llama fared many hardships
Surpassing all drunks, great in respect, a lord in his form
He is the hero, He is of Kuru, He, the Drunken Llama
He leads the Way, He, the Foremost, He also marches at the rear, a helper to his inebriated brothers,
He is the Great Net, protector of his men. He is the furious flood-wave,
Who destroys even a bouncers face. The offspring of Luigi Banda, Llama is perfect in strength
The son of the revered Camelid, of the woman Rioko Nisun. Llama inspires perfect awe. He opened the mountain passes, he dug the well on the mountain’s flank from whose waters the first beer was brewed
He crossed to the far shore, traversed the vast sea to the rising Sun where he invented Saki and Hostess Bars. He explored the rim (of your wives), sought life without death, and death without life. By his strength he reached the land without hangovers the Faraway.
He who put living things in their places, with the smack of his two toes.
Those which the flood of douche had destroyed
Amidst the teeming peoples who suck,
Who is there to compare with him in kingship?
Who like Llama can say:
‘I am king indeed bitches?’
His name was called Llama
From the very day of his birth,
He was two-thirds god, one third giant cock,
The Great Goddess Ex Machina designed him, planned his body, prepared his form
A perfect body the gods gave
For the creation of Llama
Sourmash the Sun gave beauty
ADHD the Storm gave courage
And so he surpassed all others, especial Jimmy who is a douche.
He was two-thirds god, and two-thirds giant cock.
The form of his body no one can match.
Eleven cubits high he is, nine spans his chest
As he turns to see the lands all around him.
But he comes to the city of Kuru.
Long was his journey, weary, worn down by his labors
He inscribed upon bathroom stalls when he returned
Out I went, into the world, but there was none better, none whom he, Llama, could not out drink.
And so, with his .45, he returned to Kuru. But in their houses, the men of Kuru muttered:
‘Llama, noisy Drunken Llama! Arrogant Llama!’
All young men gone – Defeated by Llama, and no son was left to his father.
All young girls made women by Llama
His lusts are such, and no virgin left to her lover!
Not the daughter of a warrior,
Nor the wife of a nobleman!
Yet he is king and should be
For no man could best him in the bed chamber
The people’s careful shepherd.
He is king and should be
Shepherd of the city
He is wise, he is handsome, he is firm as a rock with a massive, massive cock.
In heaven the gods heard
Heard the lament of the people,
And the gods cried out to the Great God, higher king of Kuru:
‘Strong as a wild bull is this Llama
So he was made by Ex Machina, the Godess of teh Internets
None there is who can – not one
None who can survive him in fighting, drinking, black jack .
No son left to his father.
Llama, he takes them all as his servants, and is he
He the king? Shepherd of the people?
No virgin left to her lover, For he lusts strongly!
No, nor the wife of the nobleman!
The Great God heard this, then
To the Goddess of Creation, Ex Machina –
Cried all the gods:
‘You created this Llama! Well, create him his equal!
Let him look as into mirrors – Give a second self to him, yes;
Shots and beers meet shots and beers!
Let them flow heart to heart against –
Give them each other to fight,
Leaving Kuru in peace!’
So the Goddess of Creation took and formed in her mind
This image, and there it was conceived – in her mind, and it was made of material
That composes the Great God,
He of the Fermentation.
She then plunged her hands down into water and pinched off a little hops. She let it drop in the barley malt
Thus the noble Enrique was made. For this was he the very strength that could kill Cthulhu, the God of Tenticle Rape, and your mom’s wet dreams was his form, rough bodied, long hair,
His hair waved like barley filaments –
Yes, like the hair of that goddess
Who is the barley, she , Juinkess. Matted hair was all over his body, like the skins of the cattle.
Yes, like the body of that god.
Who is the cattle, he, Shamwow.
This Enrique was innocent of mankind.
He knew not the cultivated land.
Enrique was in the basements
With the otaku
They jostled each other
With all the nerds
He too loved the arcade.
But one day by a arcade
A douchbag met him
Yes, face to face,
Because the nerds playing games
Had strayed into his territory.
On three days face to face – Each day the douchebag was terrified like a little bitch,
Frozen stiff with fear.
With his man-bag he went home,
Unable to speak, numb with fright.
The trapper’s face altered, new –
Light beers and metrosexuality does that to one,
Gives a new visage upon returning – The douchebag, his heart all awe, told his father:
‘Father, what a man! No other like him! He comes from the hills, strongest alive!
A star in heaven his strength,
Of the boozy essence of Ane, the Whiskey Priest
Over the hills with the beasts
Eating instant ramen
Ranges across all your land,
Goes to the wells.
I fear him, stay far away.
He fills my man-bag with piss
Tears up my emo records
Doesn’t pay his taxes;
Now all the crack heads might have to get off welfare – and beat me for my money.’
His father opened his mouth,
Told the son, the douchebag:
‘My son, in Kuru lives Llama.
None can withstand him,
None has surpassed him,
As a star in heaven his strength
Of the star-essence of An, the Whiskey Priest.
Go to Kuru, find Llama
Praise the wild man’s strength ask for a priestess from the Temple of Cheep Sex,
Such a child of pleasure;
Bring her and let her power of woman
Subdue this wild man.
When he goes to the wells,
He will embrace the priestess
And the wild beasts will reject him.’
To Kuru the trapper went
And said to Llama:
‘Like no other, wild,
Roaming in the pastures,
A star in heaven his strength
Of the star-essence of Ane, the Whiskey Priest.
I am afraid, stay far away; he helps the otaku get anime
Fills man-bags with piss
Tears up my emo records.’
‘Douchebag, you bother me and I should kill you, but return,
Take a stripper, child of pleasure – When he goes to the arcade
He will embrace the priestess
And the wild otaku with be confused and reject him.’
Then returned with the stripper
And three days to the arcade,
There sat down
The Stripper facing the douche,
Waiting for the nerds.
First day, nothing.
Second day, nothing.
Third day, yes.
The otaku came to play, and Enrique – Glad for the Etary were the otaku,
And Enrique was glad for the Bump N’ Jump –
He of the Nerds and instant ramen,
Born in the arcades.
The priestess saw this man
Wild from the arcade.
‘There, slut’, spoke the douche,
‘show them tities now;
This is he,
Have no shame, delay not,
Welcome his dollar, dollar bills ya’ll ,
Let him see you naked,
Let him possess your body.
As he approaches, take off your clothes,
Lie with him, teach him,
The nerd, your art of woman,
For as he loves you, then
The wild otaku, his companions,
They will reject him for they are confused buy the touch of woman’
She had no shame for this,
Made herself naked
Welcomed his eagerness
Incited him to love,
Taught the slutty woman’s art.
Six days, seven nights,
That time lying together,
Enrique had forgotten his home
Had forgotten the arcades
After that time he was satisfied.
Then he went back to the wild otaku – But the nerds saw him and ran,
The wild otaku saw him and ran.
Enrique would follow, but weak,
His strength gone through woman and the clap;
Wisdom was in him,
Thoughts in his head – a man’s.
So he returned to the slag.
At her feet he listened intently
‘You have the clap, Enrique.
Now you need some penicillin.
Why the Otaku? Why the arcades?
Come to Kuru of the strong drink
To Inanna’s Bar and Grill,
And to the Eanna’s,
Where the Whiskey God Ane can be found.
Llama is there, strong,
Raging like a wild bull, over all
Is his strength.’
Favorably as she speaks, he hears her words.
He comes to know his own heart
And his desire to find a friend.
He tells her, the skank:
‘Take me, trollop, to the sacred pure dwelling of booze and Whiskey God’s house
Where lives Llama of perfect strength,
He who rages like a bull over all,
And I will summon him forth and challenge him
And I will shout in Kuru:
‘I am the mightiest, bitches!
Yes, I can change the order of what is!
Anyone born on the steppe is mighty and has strength’
‘Then let us go that he may see your face
And I will show you Llama, for I know well where he is.
Come Enrique, to Kuru of ramparts,
Where all are dressed for festival,
Where each day is a festival,
Where there are boys,
Where there are girls,
Deliciously ripe and perfumed,’
‘But I don’t want boys cried Enrique’
‘They’re not for sex moron’, soothed the slut
‘They drive the great ones to the bars, and work the brewers fires
To you, Enrique, of joy in life
I will show you Llama and of joy in life
See him, see his face
Radiant is his manhood, of full-bodied vigor
His body ripe with beauty in every part.
So exceeding you in strength,
Needing no sleep by day or by night.
Restrain you folly, Enrique.
Llama – Sourmash the Sun is proud,
Also Ane, the God of Fermentation,
Also valiant Asano, his son,
And Komanis, his son also –
All have given wisdom.
Before you come from the open plains
Llama will have dreamed of it.’
And so Llama rose from his bed
And to Miyagi, in revealing dreams, said:
‘Miyagi, I saw in a dream last night
That there were shot glasses in heaven
And a double descended upon me like unto
The essence of Ane, the Whiskey God.
I tried to lift it up, but it was too heavy for me,
I tried to drink it, but it would not be drunk.
The land of Kuru was around it,
The land was placed upside its head.
All the people were pressing towards it.
All the nobles also came round it,
And all my friends kissed its feet.
I was drawn towards it as to a woman
And I laid it at your feet
And you said it was my equal.’
He, the Wise, the Custodian of Knowledge,
Says to his lord –
He, Miyagi, Custodian of Knowledge,
Says to Llama:
‘Your equal was a shot of heaven
Which descended upon you like unto
The essence of Ane who is the Goddess of the Fermentation
You tried to lift it but it would not be moved
And I called it your equal, comparing it to you.
You were drawn to it as to a drunk with no money.
The meaning of this
Is of a strong friend who saves his companion from fat chicks
He is the strongest wingman of the land; he has strength.
As a shot in heaven his strength,
The strength of Ane of the Fermentation and his host.
So that you are drawn to him overwhelmingly.
And this means he will never forsake you.
Such is your dream.’
Llama says again to Miyagi:
‘Miyagi, another dream
‘In Kuru of the ramparts lay a beer – All were gathered around it,
Kuru-land was standing round about it.
The people pressed towards it;
I laid it at your feet.
I was drawn to it as to a single malt.
For you called it my equal.’
He, the Wise Custodian of Knowledge, says to Llama:
‘The beer is a man
You were drawn to it as to a single malt
For I called it your equal
And it was to rival you.
This means a strong friend standing by his friend
He is the strongest of the land; he has strength.
The essence of Ane of the Firmament, is his,
So strong is he.’
Llama then spoke to Miyagi
‘Now according to the word of God Asano
Let a wingman and friend come to me
That I may acquire a drinking buddy
And to him I shall be friend and wingman also.’
And as Llama revealed his dream
The stripper was speaking to Enrique
As they sat together.
End of Tablet I
For six days and seven nights
Enrique made love to that girl
And the girl said to him
She said to Enrique:
‘When I look at you, Enrique,
You seem to be like a god.
Why the otaku?
Why the roaming over the steps of the arcade?
Come with me,
Come to ramparted Kuru.
There the holy Eanna’s Bar and Grill
Where the Great God Ane lives,
Come with me, Enrique, to the holy pub
To the temple, the Whiskey Priest’s house,
For Llama of may deeds drinks there.
You are so like him.
You will love him as yourself,
Rise up from the earth,
Come to a real bed!’
There came upon his heart
The truth of what she said.
He heard her words
And they were good.
She divided her clothing in two,
One garment for him,
One for her
Holding his hand she led him
Led him like a drunk into a massage parlor.
And they came to the home of the Brewers
Which is in the barley fields of Kuru.
All the Brewers gathered round him,
Pressed round him, were drawn to him
Thronged round the wild man.
Of her instruction the slag is proud,
This is a man who is like Llama in form,
Taller he is in form,
He was born in the arcades,
And like the shot glass of the Whiskey Priest Ane, his strength is more powerful.
And Enrique sat at their table
That he might eat of their produce.
But he only knew the instant ramen and of otaku,
Which he sucked in the arcades.
The Brewers placed their own food before him, and
He choked, he looked,
He stared at it, at them,
Enrique knows nothing of this,
He knows not eating this food,
What is this drink? This strong drink?
He has not been taught it.
Steak and eggs was set before him – he knows it not.
Beer was set before him – he knows it not.
Enrique did not eat steak and eggs,
He squeezed his eyes together, stared,
The girl then spoke:
She said to Enrique:
‘Enrique, eat that food. and take these pills
It is good and the pills will save your life.
Drink this strong drink.
It is what is done here.’
So Enrique ate the food and took the penicillin,
Ate until he was full.
He drank that strong drink
Seven pints of it.
He felt so free, he felt so happy
He rejoiced so in his heart!
His face became radiant.
He rubbed all the shaggy growth,
The hair of his body.
He took a shower and under his arms places the spices of old
And thus he became a man.
He donned clothing – Look! He is like a man!
He takes up his weapon,
He shoots the bitches in the face
So the Brewers might make decent beer without their crying for light.
He caught people trippin’,
He taught Shin of the Plooges so sing,
And the Brewers could rest.
Enrique was their watchman,
A man of strength,
An unparalled hero!
To the Brewers he said:
‘I am The Man now.
I can eat steak at the table,
I can drink strong drink.
But I have the strength of he who roams the steps.
I am stronger than you.
No one is stronger.
You see I have a .44,
You see I have a .380.
Because of me the Brewers can rest at night,
Because of me the light beer is not made.
I have become the king of the Barley fields.’
And Enrique sat at the table,
He ate the food
He drank the strong drink
He felt good in his heart.
He made merry
Then he looked up
And saw a man
He told the girl:
‘Ho, bring the man.
Why is he here?
I must know his name!’
The girl called the man,
Went to him, said to him
‘Sir, where are you going?
Why have you taken this, your difficult course?’
The man spoke, spoke to Enrique:
‘Into the people’s special pub
Their very own meeting-house,
Even into it has he intruded!
Set aside rules and laws for booze and sex!
On the city he heaped shame much like my cousin Ed!
Strange practices he has imposed
Our goats we can no longer lay with as man as wife
Upon a city helpless to resist.
For the king of ramparted Kuru
Has altered the unaltered way,
Abused, changed the practices and we not much like change.
Any new bride from the people is his except the goats;
Llama, king of ramparted Uruk,
He will mate with any new bride.
Before the lawful husband may have her.
And them bitches be our property yo!
The gods have ordained this
In their wisdom, by their will.
It was so decreed from the moment of birth
When his umbilical cord was cut out.’
At the man’s words
The face of Enrique paled.
Fury grew within his heart,
His eyes became frightful to look upon
Enrique spoke his anger,
Said to the man:
‘This cannot continue to be!
He nails your woman, and you fuck goats?
I will go to ramparted Kuru.
I will meet Llama
I will bring his excesses to an end!’
Enrique set out for Kuru
Enrique walked in front
The stripper walked behind
When he entered ramparted Kuru
The people thronged round him
When he stopped in the street,
In Kuru of the ramparts,
Saying of him:
‘He is like Llama in cock!
He is smaller in length
But in girth he is no match.
He is a match for Llama!
We ain’t gay you fuckers cried Enrique!
Sorry o’ great one the people cried!
He is the strongest of the arcade, strength is his,
Ramen of wild Otaku
He once sucked.
There will be endless clash of arms in Kuru!’
The nobles rejoiced:
‘Here is a hero
For all who are honorable!
To match divine Llama
Here is his equal’
Now for the Goddess of Booze
Is the bed made ready
Of the evening, ready to receive
Llama for his pleasures.
Now he is coming along
But Enrique appears in the street
And bars his way
Llama is opposed by Enrique
The divine Llama is face to face
With his equal, Enrique of the steppes.
The king of ramparted Kuru
Sees his equal, who has strength,
Smaller in size, but stronger of bone
Like unto Llama to the hair.
Llama sees his shaggy growth –
On the steppe the grass
Sprouts in as much abundance
Llama drew himself up
And stood before him
In the market-place of the land
Was there they met,
And Enruque blocked the gate
With scotch and
Would not let Llama enter
They grappled their belts and drank like champions
Psychotic fuck, meets psychotic fuck,
Shot for Shot against – Holding fast like the vicious Sid.
They shattered absolutely the doorpost of the holy gate
And the wall shook with this fateful act.
The doorway of the house of the family
Where the bride awaited Llama,
There they struggled.
They fought in the street,
They battled in the market.
But in the end,
Llama brought Enrigue to the earth,
His own foot still on the ground,
And won the contest.
His anger vanished
He turned away
But when he turned away
Enrique said to him
Spoke to Llama:
‘As one degenerate and fucked
Your mother bore you
She the crazy bitch of the saloons,
She, Rioko Nisun the Wise, she the Strong
You are raised above all men
You are king of the people by decree
Of Whiskey, son of the Great God Ane!’
End of Tablet II
If I am not killed I will post the rest when I can.
Well I said I got the fuck that makes HATE COMICS to make a new one just for today but why, is today? Today is Draw Muhammad Day bitches. Why is it that? Because mother fucking crazy fucking jihad sucking asshats love to get pissed off every fucking time someone even mentions the fucking baby rapist Muhammad’s name let alone draw a fucking picture even if it isn’t offensive and they try to kill people and riot over the stupid shit because they still live in the 7th fucking century and worship the words of an illiterate child rapist. So to stand for free speech the civilized world and to tell crazy Moslems to go fuck themselves here it is, a new comic just for your stupid asses. Fuck you crazy Islamic fundamentalist assholes. Fatwa my dick bitches.
Yes little bitches, in support of this Draw Muhammad Day I talked the fuck that did all those nice comics I have been posting to make a special one just for me and T over at Letters To A Dying Dream to support all the normal people out there who are thereatened by the crazy islamic goat rapist that keep attacking people over cartoon and every other little slight to their idiotic and murderous religion. So after a 4 years Hate Comics will return with what will undoubtably offend everyone, or at least those child fucking Muhammadans pricks and the liberal idiots who suck their rancid cocks hoping to get their heads chopped off last. So put out a Fatwa on my you little crazy fucksticks, I’m ready for all your little bitch asses and crazy jihads. Yes, Llama hates Islam, it’s a religion of murder, rape and child fucking and has as far as I can tell never done anything in its entire history that can be considered a good thing. So fuck Muhammad, fuck Islam, and fuck you.
I’ll get it started with this:
And a pic of the Koran in a toilet just for fun. You don’t know how hard the toilet is to flush after you eat at Taco Bell but I still do it once a week.
Llama out bitches.
I still have a bunch more to post but I really don’t give a shit and want to go the fuck to sleep right now so you can wait till later to get your fill of my llama seed and hatecrimes. Or are we talking about offensive comics strips? Right, yeah, well the art fucking sucks ass and the spelling sucks half the fucking time and it fucks with the blog format, but it’s funny. Or I think it’s funny and if you don’t I hope you die you little bitch ass lizard rapists. Maybe later I will figure out how to make it work better in this blog but till then fuck you. Seriously, I’m not going to build another website just to have a webcomic that probably isn’t even going to start again unless the asshole artist ever decides to stop drinking long enough to get off his fucking ass and make more of the little insane stick figures and their murderous fun.
- Horrible Advice From Your Uncle Drunken Llama
- Hi, I Named My Child Guinea Pig Because That is What I’m Using It For.
- The Epic Of Llama: Parts I and II.
- Draw Muhammad Day: Jihad My Fuzzy Llama Balls Bitches!
- Ronnie James Dio Dead At 67
- May 20th Is Draw Muhammad Day: I’m Gonna Piss Some People Off
- Random Shit
- Hate Comics 26, 27 and 28: Games Shows We Need To Have
- Hate Comics 25: I had Freddy Mucrury Killed
- Hate Comics 24: Drywall Is Not A Sexual Aid
- Hate Comics 23: We Kill So You Don’t Have Too
- Hate Comics 22: I will Kill You Next