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Jett Superior laid this on you on || October 31, 2002 || 6:28 pm

HAPPY HALLOWEEN


:: click photos for larger version ::

FROM THE
SUPERIOR LUNATICS.

Please allow me to take this opportunity to remind you that if you come to my house seeking sugary boodle tonight and you are over twelve years of age (YES, fucknits, I WILL BE carding) then I will require you to do something foolish before I fork over the packet filled with five eensy gummi bears. I don’t give a fuck if you roll my yard fifteen fucking times tonight. I just don’t. Hell, you’ve wrecked the mailbox;

we look like white trash central anyhow.

And to you little project bastards that come looking for a handout, don’t expect one if you aren’t sporting a costume. It doesn’t really cost anything to dress up. I know, for I was a poor kid at one time. Show a little fucking ingenuity….be creative! Borrow some of your momma’s black eyeliner ( I know she has some, the whore wears more in one day than I do in a month) and poke some freckles on or something. Rip the sagging rain gutters from your roof and come as a robot. Just. Make. An. Attempt. That’s all I ask. I worked hard to go out and buy your zero-nutrient treats emblazoned with Spider Man and the Powerpuff Girls this year; there should be a little return on my investment.

IF YOU DON’T SAY TRICK-OR-TREAT (smiling like a foo helps you, as well) AS SOON AS MY FRONT DOOR SWINGS OPEN, THEN FUCK YOU, BUDDY, AND NOSOUPFAHYOUUU. No candy, neither. If you don’t say thanks when I toss the candy gleefully into your bag, I will chase you to the end of my walk to retrieve it. Only I won’t dig the cheap whistle pop that I gave you out of your bag; I’ll instead rob you of the good stuff, your Three Musketeers bars and your Jolly Rancher suckers.

Don’t you even think of smashing this pumpkin tonight:

Ten-year-old Sam painstakingly drew and carved Batman into it himself, and I’ll make you miserable if any mischief befalls it.

Next year y’all better pray that I don’t crack my ankle the day before Halloween and be forced to miss all the festivities, like this year. I wish *I* could go trick-or-treating for Meppergan and Jim Beam.

8 worked it out »

  1. Really 10.31.2002

    Wow, I just wasted 3 min. of my life. My favorite past time is to read the f-word for 3 minutes, that was great. What a waste… don’t quit your day job wench.

     
  2. Jett 10.31.2002

    Ohhhh, stop trying to flatter me. I see straight through it. After all, what’s three measly minutes in the face of the thousands you’ve already flushed with the waste that is your life?

    Baby, you got a little thrill of delight from reading my DirtyGirlWords…mmmm…dintchoo? That’s why you hung in there for three. Whole. Minutes. I realize that’s prolly a feat of immense proportions for you, Preemer. Delightful!

    I’ve been called a wench! A fucking WENCH, hey-hey!

    Next time, can you put the word ‘Sassenach’ in front of it? That’d just round it out perfectly, as well as fulfilling a long-held fantasy of some handsome stranger (you ARE handsome, aren’t you??) grabbing me by the hair of the head and addressing me in such a manner. There would be heaving bosoms and EVERYTHING.

    And please, don’t get all fidgety if my InterWeb pals point and laugh at you. They only do that to the reeeeallllly entertaining fucktards.

    Zeitgeist, I say!! ZEITGEIST!

     
  3. delmer 11.1.2002

    so you cracked it eh?

    how bad?

    and do we now call you “Gimpy Superior”?

     
  4. kalee 11.1.2002

    *rolls eyes* What an absurd thing to say. You just *know* “Really” -the fucktard took more fucking time typing his reply about the FUCK word than he did reading the fucking post. *gasp* oops….was that fuck word said yet *AGAIN*? LOL….

    Anyhoo….the kids look *great* Really really great. Sorry to here about the ankle. Hope you get your Meppergan and Jim Bean anyhow. Starting looking for a box of goodies, maybe those brown boxes will cheer you up some. *grinz*

     
  5. clayton 11.1.2002

    fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

    how slow do you have to read for that to take 3 minutes?

    pee ess… fuck

     
  6. tel 11.1.2002

    Hey ‘really’ — mail me, we’ll talk.

     
  7. The Llama 11.2.2002

    Ok, first off, I would like to point and laugh at the fucktard. That was for you Jett. Secondly, I really dug today’s blog. Thirdly, I wish I had gone trick or treating. But I didn’t. And I don’t remember what I did instead.

    Hey, Jett. Sorry to hear about the ankle keeping you down and out for a while. But it makes for some conflict in your Halloween rules, or whatever you call them. You definately won’t be able to chase down a 14 year old who is hyped up on sugary goodness when he or she doesn’t thank you for more. Just isn’t gonna happen.

    And hey, “Really Messed”. Fuck you, you fucking fuck. Instead of coming over here and being a fucking asshole, go play hide and go fuck yourself for fucksakes. Fuck.

     
  8. The Llama 11.2.2002

    And Jett, tell Sam that I say his pumpkin was awesome.

     

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