I apologize if the posting has been light lately. You see, I’m not in a comedic mood based on the fact that I fucking hate you. Not you personally–although maybe you personally–but every single human being that’s ever lived. I hate Jonas Salk right now. I hate Florence Nightingale. Harriet Tubman can go fuck herself. … Continue reading The Impotent Yowling Of A Frazzled Fuckstick