OK, OK, enough with the fucking emails and complaints and threatening diatribes about what’s going on with Gothik. Listen, I’m trying to figure out where the plotline is going at this very minute. I mean, I’ve sort of backed myself into a corner, if you know what I mean. C’mon … an alien being is now president! Quickdraw McGraw might get a breast reduction to forestall the country’s shortage of raccoon sperm. Lumpy’s Brain wants to marry Priscilla (Quickdraw McGraw). Reginald (Broderick Crawford) is attempting to enlist the efforts of Grade ‘Z’ movie monsters to assist him in winning back the heart of Priscilla. Milton Bradley has made a fucking fortune selling its new game, SKULLFUCKER, giving dividends of approximately $35,000,000 to each stock holder in the fabulously successful company. The digestive systems of a blood fluke and a nematode are in the final stages of their plot to destroy Earth. And, finally, strippers from all over the world are congregating in whatever the fuck city all this is taking place in so that they can help save our planet and make a bit of cash in the process. BUT ARE ANY OF THEIR TITS LARGE ENOUGH? That’s the fucking question isn’t it you stupid fucking baboon felchers. I mean, seriously … if you dumbasses would pull your socket wrenches out of your fucking assholes long enough to help me figure out what size the strippers’ tits should be then I could get on with it and publish another episode of Gothik. But are you retarded dumb fucks who like to spend each and every night having anal sex with dead wombats going to help me out here? Or are you just going to be lying in a pile of festering favela garbage, allowing the maggots wriggling in the wombat corpses to tickle the tips or your urethras, giving you such pleasure as you’ve never known before in your entire fucking lives and having twenty or thirty (or even forty) orgasms a day? God DAMN, you pus-drinking, putrid shit pilgrims sure like to read Gothik … but would any of you step up to the fucking plate and help me out with this plot dilemma? Fuck no! You are all worthless, shit-besmirched, dickless, assholes and I’ll kick each and every one of your sorry asses every day for the rest of your short, miserable lives. You just wait, you piss-drinking, rat-snarfing, walrus placenta-fucking spazz fucks! You’ll get yours … oh yeah, you’ll get yours. So, get off your lazy asses and give me some ideas you stupid motherfuckers! Here … I’ll give you some help … maybe these photographs will inspire you to make the right decision about WHAT THE FUCK SIZE TITS WE NEED TO GET THIS GODDAM STORY BACK ON TRACK. Fuck you! Did you hear what I said, asshats? I said .. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Like everybody else, I’m being bombarded in my email by Chinese spam. Offering everything from new domain names to specialized rooster castrating machines, it’s become an epidemic. MUCH of our STUFF, it seems, comes from China today. Next time you take out your DUMB-phone, or log on to FLEECEbook, here’s a lovely picture to remind you how you’re able to show and tell all your friends about the extra sauerkraut you just got on your imported Czech bratwurst and that you just cannot decide which of the 15 brands of mustard you should embellish it with.