Video Game Assholes
Posted by CaptainKickback on Sunday, November 19 2006

There is a disturbing sub-species of humanity whose very sanity needs to be questioned, the video game ass-clown. You know who these people are. Hell, you may even be one of them.

These are the idiots who waited in line, outside a store for 2 or 3 days, just so they could be the first in line to shell out $600 plus taxes for a Playstation 3 game box. What the f*ck!?! What sort of ass-clown, loser retard do you have to be to camp out on the sidewalk, for ANY reason, when you are not a mental-case homeless person? All for as PS3? Wise up! That $600 slab of plastic WILL NOT get you laid, suck your d*ck, or even give you a hand job. And $600 for it? Why not make a couple car payments, or save it, or do your X-mas shopping. And if you are a parental unit buying it for your squealing spawn, then you sir or made are a plastic-coated ass-clown for assisting in your kids retardation and lack of social skills.

Running a close second are the “gamers” who spend every waking moment playing on-line, interactive games, building a characters life and interacting with others on line. Gee, I do that every day for free. IT’S CALLED LIFE! TRY GETTING ONE! Did you ever think you might not be such a total reject if instead of playing WoW, or MoO, or The Sims, you actually dealt with real humans. It is a lot more exciting and your chances of actually scoring with a real hottie are far, far greater. Or you can be the pathetic loser who gets caught jerking off to some WoW image. And parents, if you let your kids get away with this, don’t come bitching to me when the f*ck-tard is a 30 years old bloated turd living in your basement, with no job or social skills.

Lastly is the snob. You know, the ass-hat who only uses one system because of its alleged superiority to all others, or only plays one game because it is the only one he/she is good at. The person who goes out of their way to ruin your experience by telling you what’s wrong with your system, or the game, or where the Easter eggs are, or how the graphics are better on his system. His fake superiority masks one and only one truth - he is a total f*ck-tard loser, with no friends. The type of guy that even if his stomach was on fire, no one would even bother pissing down his neck. Look for his body to be dragged down from a bell tower by your town’s SWAT unit in the near future.


Method of Execution:

Eaten by cannibal tribesmen in the jungle of Borneo, because they want to consume the great magic he possess by making images move on a magic board he holds in his hand. Best served with a coconut sauce, some fava beans and a nice banana wine….fffffffff

What's eating you? Tell us at forums.

Terrell Ownes - Ass-clown extrordinaire
Posted by CaptainKickback on Saturday, August 12 2006

To listen to Terrell Owens he is the greatest football player ever and persecuted only slightly less than Jesus Christ. His incredibly childish attitude kept him out of football for a season and cost him millions in lost revenue. He possesses the temperament of a bratty four year old and has no respect for anyone or anything, except that which puffs him up, regardless of what it may do to everyone else. I think Philadephia Eagles quarterback Donovan McNabb showed great restraint by not going completely gangsta-gangsta on T.O and busting a cap or four in his lippy ass.

Let’s face it, T.O is a complete ass-clown and has been a cancer everywhere he has played in the pros, but that’s not the reason he is featured here. No, T.O thinks he is the greatest receiver to ever strap on pads and a helmet, except for one little detail – he has not accomplished jack-shit! How many championship rings is he sporting? What records has he equaled or broken? How many of his game performances will be remembered 50 years from now as “one of the greatest ever?” None. Zip. Zilch. Nada.

Every offensive football player wants the ball on every down, but what separates the greats, the champions if you will, from the chumps is that the champions recognize that they are part of a team and that to achieve greatness, glory and championships takes a team, not one hot dog.

In 50 years time, people will still talk about the incredible numbers Jerry Rice put up while helping the 49ers win 4 Super Bowls. In 50 years, people will talk about the superhuman effort put forth by Kellen Winslow in one epic playoff game against the Miami Dolphins. In 50 years people will still marvel at the skills of Raymond Berry and the artistry of John Stallworth and Lynn Swann. But in 50 years, T.O. will probably be a footnote and only remembered as a guy who destroyed at least 3 football teams.

Method of Execution:

He gets to spend eternity going across the middle, having to leap up for the ball and getting broken in half by either Ronnie Lott or Dick “Night Train” Lane.

Don't be a damned candy-assed, fruit-whipped nancy-boy. Come be with your own kind in the forums.

Inconsiderate Bastards
Posted by CaptainKickback on Tuesday, May 2 2006

You know who these cocksuckers are, hell you may be one yourself. These are the folks who whip out of parking spaces without even looking because they own a SUV, or a fancy, expensive sports car. Usually they also are yakking on a cell phone too. Or it’s the oh so important person who should put out the money to have their cellphone surgically grafted to their ear. They are the people who enter a store, shop and pay while blabbering on the phone the entire time. Nobody is that important, not even God.

Then there are the clueless clods that let their children run and scream like wild animals. If they were in a cage at a zoo, it wouldn’t be so bad. But no, the inconsiderate bastards share their hyperactive, destructive little screamer with the entire store/restaurant/movie and do nothing to muzzle the little shits. And God forbid you yell at the child or ask the parents to leash their terror, then the inconsiderate bastards lurch into action to defend little monster’s right to ruin life for everyone. The Colonel had the best solution, a nice SBD fart in the face of the terror-tykes and if you have had the right foods, you can make them cry.

Of course there is the “sports professional,” who comes in two classes. The inconsiderate bastard who thinks he is a professional when he really has the talent of dog poop. Most often found on golf course, these folks do everything as if they are playing for a seven-figure payday. Hey pal, you are not that good, move along or me and my friends will have to hurt you. The other “sports professional” inconsiderate bastard is the leather-lunged yahoo who berates both teams because is just that good. Usually, these fucks are close to 30 stone in weight or the coach of a kids’ sports team. Hey pal, if you were so damn good, how come you aren’t out there making a seven figure salary.

Method of Execution:

The classic Chinese “Death of a Thousand Cuts.” That is were a person is stripped, wrapped in wire mesh, so small squares of skin just bulge through a bit. Then a very sharp knife is used to slice off these little squares of bulging flesh. The classics are still the best.

You're a dirty bastard. It's ok, so are we. Come be with your own kind in the forums.

The AFA
Posted by mach5potato on Thursday, January 5 2006

Let me introduce you to the American Family Association. Their website AFA.net describes them thusly:

“AFA is for people who are tired of cursing the darkness and who are ready to light a bonfire. We are a non-profit (501(c)(3)) organization founded in 1977 by Don Wildmon. The American Family Association represents and stands for traditional family values, focusing primarily on the influence of television and other media – including pornography – on our society.”

Now let me tell you who these disgusting god-fellators are. These are the people that want to tell you what you can and cannot watch on television as if they were your parent. Instead of changing the channel like any sane human would, these fucks watch TV twenty-four hours a day just looking for an excuse to protest. These are the enemies of fun, free thought, and human advancement. These people are dragging us into the witch-burning dark ages and I will not tolerate their ignorance.

Method of Execution:

I know of a really large and obscene book we should beat these holy rollers to death with. It’s rife with rape, incest, theft, murder, war, pestilence, human feces ingestion, and sexy animal slaughter fun. This book is so obscene that if they actually read the damn thing I bet the AFA would want it banned. This book is of course The Bible. Yeah baby! That Bible is sexy hot. If it were a movie they’d have to cut scenes out to get an ‘R’ instead of an ‘NC-17’ rating. Once all these holier-than-thou imbeciles are dead we can all go back to watching our favorite show: Bowling with Homosexual Drug-Addicted Atheist Abortion Doctors. This is America. Change the fucking channel and shut up.

Want to sound off? Hurry to the forums before the god-nazis shut us down!

John Lennon
Posted by mkell on Saturday, December 10 2005

Well, it's that time of year again. No, not time to celebrate life with your family, or time to bow your head in reverent remembrance of those who died at Pearl Harbor. I mean it's time for hippies, burnouts, and contemporary wannabees to light a candle and worship the supposedly late John Lennon. The man was shot and killed almost a full month after my first birthday, and yet he STILL WON'T DIE. All over the world, his rotted corpse is trotted out and worshipped like Jesus at a Colombian Pascua procession. Oh wait, but Lennon was bigger than Jesus! Never mind that McCartney wrote half his songs, this Communist Messiah lives on in all who wish it was still the '60s/'70s. The real tragedy of Lennon's murder was that he died before people saw what a ham and a sham he truly was. Die, John Lennon. For the love of god, die.

Method of execution: A rising generation of sensible orcs who will forget him and all the supercillious artsy communist bullshit he ever spouted.

Imagine there's no hippys. It's easy if you visit the forums.

Cowboys
Posted by SuperKrautDog on Wednesday, November 9 2005

You fake pieces of shit. John Wayne was the last real cowboy, and even he was an actor. You make a mockery of what is America's symbol of the West. With your giant belt buckles you have from NOT WINNING a rodeo, your boots made out of a leather-like substance instead of cow, and your stupid fucking hat that you only wear on special occassions, you're a walking testament to why the rest of the world thinks we're assholes. You people make me sick.

Fuck, you're not even from the West! You're a dickhead from Michigan who thinks it's fun to get dressed up and yell "Yeehaw!" You strut around in your faux-Wranglers insulting a glorious time in this nation's history.

AND THEN YOU LINE DANCE!!!

Cowboys are dead. Line Dancing is dead. You should be dead. There are no cowboys left. Stop watching CMT, it's nothing but hideous lies fed to fools like you.

Method of Execution: You're lassoed around the neck and dragged through the streets by one of those damn horses you hold so dear to your make-believe cowboy heart. What's left of you is sodomized by Crowe.


Say "Cowboy Up" in the forums! Say it! I dare you, motherfucker! I double dare you!

Santa's elves
Posted by NotThePastry on Friday, October 14 2005


You may think they’re cute and cuddly, but if you do you’re the victim of a vast international cover-up that goes to the highest echelons of society. I’m here to remove the wool that has been pulled over your eyes. For too long have they escaped justice!
It ends today. I give you the Truth:

Slightly less fruity than his cousin the fairy, and not to be confused with the chronically alcoholized, Irish leprechaun, the average elf stands 2 foot nothing and weighs in at 200 lbs. He carves out a runty (and thus pathetic) existence, watching Bridget the Midget porn, stuffing himself with turkey, gingerbread, candy canes and garland in porridge form. He also works for Santa; this is, of course, where the children come in.

In some circles known as the Michael Jackson of the North Pole, there’s nothing Santa appreciates more than having a child on his lap. Thus the Elves take to the streets at night looking for pliable and ripe young’uns to be snatched from their parents. They love their jobs. The bastards…

When December rolls around, the elves cackle amongst themselves when listening to
“Santa Claus is comin’ to town”. They laugh for they know that the line
“He’s got millions of stockings to fill on Christmas Day” is a euphemism. They are the spawn of the Devil and their evil cannot go unpunished!!!

Method of execution:
While they are merely a symptom of a greater problem (being Christmas-themed commercials as early as October), the elves are undoubtedly depraved enablers deserving of death. You could of course simply throw them into the deep end of a kiddy pool and enjoy the sight of their stubby legs whipping the water into a raging froth.

But in order to get to Santa too - the ace of spades of the Arctic - having the US Air Force carpet bomb his base of operations on the North Pole seems like the way to go.
Contact your congressman. Now!


Did your parents beat you with candy canes when you were a kid?
Did a miniature gigolo get your girlfriend pregnant? Either way, come agree with me in the forum!

Arts & Crafts Ladies
Posted by Rat_Bastard on Tuesday, September 27 2005


Ok, we’ve all seen them, we all hate them. The shriveled old bags who are the grist for Martha Stewart’s mill of homemade craft garbage. We all have an aunt or co-worker like this. She’s not THAT old, but she’s WEIRD. At every holiday, you can see her sporting a generic sweatshirt that she’s bedazzled/sequined/embroidered/etc with a giant glittering picture of a Yorkshire terrier or a cheesy holiday theme that a kindergarten art class would be ashamed to produce. You live in mortal fear that this woman will receive your name in a secret Santa drawing, because you know that once you tear off the wrapping paper, inside you will find a piece of shit chotchky made from her domestic droppings, hot glued and painted and glittered to put Liberace to spinning in his grave.
Is it a potholder? A picture frame? Just some damn thing to put on the mantle? Who the fuck cares, it’s ass ugly. No, it isn’t the thought that counts. What counts is getting me a gift that I might *actually* use for something. Not making something out of Fimo and Popsicle sticks.


Method of execution:
A little time consuming, but worth the effort. You will be slow cooked until the meat falls off your bones. The fat will be siphoned off and rendered to make designer soaps, possibly with chunks of bone and teeth inside—you know, to make it decoratively festive. What little meat is left will be ground into moist dog food for the little yipping shithound you carry on your arm like a purse EVERYWHERE you go. The dog will then be donated to a Vietnamese deli. The leathery skin peeled from your worthless body will be tanned and stretched to make a lovely holiday tablecloth, or to re-upholster the lazy-boy your poor husband wore out trying to watch SportsCenter and tune out your incessant yammering.


Are you using the crochet mousepad your Aunt Millie made you? Then you feel our pain! Come vent in the forum.

Panic Mongering Email Cunts
Posted by mach5potato on Thursday, September 8 2005


Did ya hear the one about the guys going around with “perfume samples” that are really a knock out drug on cardboard? One sniff knocks you out cold and then they proceed to assfuck and murder you! Whoo! I wrote an email about it and sent it to all my girlfriends. Now they are all too terrified to leave the house! I feel so good about myself and helping everyone. I also heard about guys that will jump in your backseat while you pump gas, and as you drive off they grab you and assfuck and murder you. I’m writing an email about it now. Gotta tell the world to live in fear!

Listen you fucking bitches, and listen good. The world is a dangerous place. You could walk outside right now and a tree could fall on your ass, flattening you like a flat thing. An Asian gang war could break out in your work parking lot and a stray bullet could enter your brain leaving you Schiavoed. But, here’s the thing: THERE AIN’T SHIT YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT! If a guy wants your cash, no amount of email forwards will save you. If a crazed gunman comes to your home you’re fucked. You’re FUCKED. Stop with the panic mongering, it’s embarrassing to the few of us left with an IQ over 100.

Method of execution:
Pretty simple. We print all the fucking emails these analcunts send us every week and drop the massive weight on them. Then someone will compose an email about the crazed paper dropping maniacs and how to protect you against them. Then we kill those fucks. Shit, this may take awhile...


Are you the one filling my inbox with your lack of common sense? Come to the forum so I can log your IP address and block your stupid ass.

Faggy Bands
Posted by SuperKrautDog on Tuesday, August 9 2005


What happened to real music? What happened to bands that abused women, drugs, alcohol, makeup, and anything else they could get their hands on? What happened to destroying property and causing riots? When did it become a crime to hire the Hell's Angels to work security for a show? Those were the good days, days that have long since passed. Now...now music is made by dog sodomizers like Linkin Park, My Chemical Romance, and AFI. What happened to that rock spirit? Loud music, guitar solos, and payments in beer used to be staples of the industry. There's only one way to stop this new music menace, and it starts by taking out the trash.

Method of Execution: Since we'd be doing society a favor by getting rid of the retards that listen to this music, I think we should tie the bands down and beat them to death using the pre-teen girls and female-esque boys that listen to them as human baseball bats, killing two birds with one douchebag-shaped stone.

Do you want to rock and roll all night and beat the shit out of poser bitches everyday? Check out the forums.

That Guy in the Shitter
Posted by mach5potato on Monday, June 20 2005


All men know That Guy. He’s the one that shits in the stall next to you and makes sounds you didn’t know were humanly possible. Terrible sounds like a foul wind blowing out of a rotten bologna balloon at tremendous speed whilst choirs of elephant seals sodomize each other to gay porn. You can hear the fat lungs working to pump fresh O2 into his racing heart as he grunts and squeezes. He wheezes and pants as he torques the wicked cables out of his bulbous ass. Sometimes you wonder if he’ll just keel over right there with half a greasy pipe snake hanging from his ass. Who goes and washes hands first, you or That Guy? Stay and the smell will kill you. Go and you just know he’ll come out too. Then you have to face the man whom two seconds earlier was subjecting you to unspeakable horrors. Let’s just kill the bastard and be rid of this menace once and for all!

Method of Execution: Obviously That Guy has some serious plumbing problems. We call Super-Rotor-Mega-Rooter and have them bring the trusty pipe auger. Starting at the mouth and working down we make a hole large enough for That Guy to shit his brains out. Literally.


If you've never encountered That Guy, you are that guy. Come stink up the forum you fucker.

Dr. Phil
Posted by SuperKrautDog on Tuesday, April 19 2005

Dr. Phil, besides looking surprisingly similiar to a penis with ears, is one man who should not be dispensing any kind of advice or therapy to the general public. If Satan were to rise from the depths and bowels of Hell to reign fiery torment upon the Earth for thousands of years, he would come in the form of this man. Listen to him speak. Watch his movements, his attitude, the way he carries himself. See if you can catch a portion of the 666 tattoed behind his left ear. It's there. It has to be. Know why?

Because he was spawned from Oprah, unholiest of unholy things. He came from that televised abomination. Because of her, he is allowed to walk across your television screen daily.

Method of Execution: He gets shoved, head first, right back into Oprah's uterus. Back to the cess pit he came from.

Do you like fat guys that write weight-loss books? Come blabber about your blubber in the forum.

People with Ribbon Car Magnets
Posted by Vladimyr on Friday, April 1 2005

Pick a cause; any cause!! I remember back in the early days of people wearing ribbons in support of a cause. I guess it was a nice idea. "I support finding a cure for AIDS and I want you all to know it!" Okay...thanks? I'm sure you seem very sophisticated and sincere in front of your friends wearing that ribbon on your shirt. How much money have you donated to research? None? How much time have you spent volunteering with victims? None? Are you aware that if your support of a cause ends with wearing a ribbon then you're a fucking fraud?

Now the ribbons have been transformed in to ribbon shaped magnets that assholes and fuck-sticks alike are plastering all over their cars. I've been seeing them all over in my area and each time I see one I get a little more pissed off. "I want to have people think I care but I don't care enough to do more than buy these magnets for a buck each at Wal-Mart." If you are in support of finding a cure for cancer why aren't you petitioning companies to donate to research? Oh, because that purple ribbon is as far as you're willing to go. I forgot that it's about looking sincere and caring for the sake of your reputation. If you support the troops, why aren't you sending calling cards and care packages to them? Oh, that's right. You've done your part by buying that magnet that was made in China. God bless the USA? In the form of a fucking door magnet? Try flying a flag or telling a veteran "thank you." It's called hypocrisy, you fucking pretenders! I hate you...


Method of execution:
I will rip out your fucking soul, wrap it in cheesecloth, pour boiling water over and drink a big cup of essence of fuckhead tea!!

Do you have car magnets? Why don't you post your home address in the forums?

Shopping Cart Thieves
Posted by Vladimyr on Tuesday, March 22 2005

What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you such a lazy asshole that you can't find your own cart? What possesses a person to take a cart containing the items another person wishes to purchase while that person steps away for a moment? If you forgot to get a cart when you came in and now realize you need one go back to the fucking front of the store and get one!! What are you going to do with that person’s purchases that are already in the cart? Holy shit! I want to tear out your fucking throat and piss in the gaping wound! Inconveniencing others for your convenience will not be tolerated! I will smite thee, Slut!!


Method of execution:
I'm not shooting for fancy here. Our executioner will remove your head with a dull and rusty butter knife. It will then be placed on a pike and displayed at the front entrance to the store where you committed your heinous crime as a warning to would-be cart thieves.

Do you want to beat these fucks senseless? Tell us all about it in the forum.

Lee Greenwood
Posted by mach5potato on Monday, March 14 2005


Lee Greenwood must die. This fucker is the musical world’s equivalent to an ambulance-chasing lawyer. I can just imagine him setting at home watching CNN thinking: “Ok bomb something American you towel heads! Daddy needs a new Cadillac!” We got bombarded with his terrible songs endlessly after 9-11 and again as we went to war with Iraq. Anytime the media feels we are becoming a little too complacent in our patriotism they crank the Greenwood up to 11 and bash us in the face with the speakers. I for one will no longer tolerate this bullshit. Time to die fucker!

Method of execution:
Drop him off in Fallujah with a sign that says, “Proudly fucking white women, eating pork, and inspiring my country to kill brown people since 1943.”

Do you get chills when you hear Proud to be an American? Come tell us what life as a queer is like in the forum.

Larry the Cable Guy
Posted by SuperKrautDog on Thursday, March 3 2005


Ok, Larry, you're time is fucking up. I'm tired of you polluting the world of comedy with your shitty brand of "redneck" humor. Leaching off of Jeff Foxworthy...you should be ashamed of yourself.

And another thing: "Get 'er done" is a plague upon society. I can't enjoy human contact without having some putrid little shit saunter around repeating that brain-melting line. You're turning perfectly normal human beings into the same white trash you are. You're not funny, you're an asshole. Stop it.

Method of execution: This is simple. I'm going to strangle you to death with your stupid flannel shirt. Then, while your body is still twitching in a vain attempt to hold on to the little life force left in you, I'm going to pee on your still warm body then shoot you in the fucking head. Problem solved, and I guarantee you'll fade into history rather quickly with nary a person shedding a tear over your demise.

Are you an inbred redneck? Come get-R-done in the forum.

Senator Robert Byrd
Posted by mach5potato on Thursday, February 24 2005

Some of you may be asking, “who the fuck is Robert Byrd?” An asshole that’s who! He is a United States Senator from the great state of West Virginia. In addition to being a narcissistic ass-muncher, he has wasted over $1 billion of your dollars on such fine projects as the Robert C. Byrd Drive connecting 2 podunk towns nobody drives to anyway, the Robert C. Byrd United Technical Center, the Robert C. Byrd Hilltop Office Complex, the Robert C. Byrd Expressway, U.S. 52 near Weirton, the Robert C. Byrd Visitor Center at Harpers Ferry National Historic Park, and the Robert C. Byrd Bridge between Huntington and Chesapeake, Ohio. This cunt-bag spends your tax dollars like he was appointed Caesar of the USA. He shows no remorse for his actions, as demonstrated by this fine quote: "They call me 'The Pork King,' they don't know how much I enjoy it." - Sen. Robert Byrd. Time to own up and pay back you fucking waste of human flesh.

Method of execution:
Rampant and wasteful spending in government is the norm these days. Nobody seems to care that money is being taken from your children’s pockets and put into ass fucks like Senator Byrd’s pockets. No more! We take my dad's advice this time. We run a tally of the top spenders from the House and Senate. The top 5 spenders from each are then brought up to receive their award on live television. The award? A bullet in the fucking brain! Watch as the pork spending plummets and the deficit begins to shrink. Amazing! I fucking hate you Senator Byrd. Choke.


Come and spew your hatred in the forum.

People who use the Self Checkout Lanes
Posted by SuperKrautDog on Tuesday, January 25 2005

What the fuck, people? The guy who created it didn't have Mary and her 7 carts of shit in mind when he created a do-it-yourself lane in Wal-Mart. What makes you think that you're better than the cashier? These people are professionals, and are paid to scan your shit. And you think you can match that? You think you're better than someone who does it 8 hours a day for barely minimum wage? So much better, in fact, that you're willing to gamble not only your time, but the time of everyone else waiting behind you so you'll feel good about doing something by yourself for once. You're slow, and you don't deserve the right to step out into public that the rest of society takes for granted.

Not to mention, you're taking valuable jobs from pitiful high school students nationwide. And not just high school students, but immigrants as well. How is Achmed supposed to pay his way through jr. college if you do it yourself instead of saving a little time and effort by letting him do it? You people make me sick.

Method of Execution: Usually, a clever form of punishment follows. Something witty and funny that somehow ties into the problem for the effect of irony. Not this time. Nope, this time, if I see you bringing more than an arm full of shit to the Self Checkout lane, I'll cave your fucking head in with a pipe. Simple, straightforward, and maybe you'll learn something from all of it. My time is more valuable than yours.

Are you a stupid, selfish, full-fucking-cart-to-the-self-checkout-lane bitch? Fuck you, don't bother checking out the forums.

Bloggers
Posted by mach5potato on Tuesday, January 11 2005


I am fucking sick of Blogs. If you want a website, learn a little HTML and make one. Don’t think for a second that changing a few colors on your Live Journal makes you a Webmaster. For that matter, why the fuck do you think I want to read about your shitty life? I have my own shitty life to run. I don’t care if Ashley and Meagan think that Bobby is cute. I don’t care that you think Bush suXoRs. Drop the Blog bullshit and pick up a newspaper and find a job.

Method of Execution:
I’d like to beat you all about the head and chest with a copy of HTML for Dummies with a spike sticking through it. Simple yet effective.