Angry Clown Hate Mail

Since I've been a guest contributor for Angry Clown, I receive a few hate mails on occasion. They usually end up berating me for making fun of everything under the sun, which includes of all things...clowns.

Never mind my vicious attacks on overweight-bearded women that smell of limburger cheese, ass-raping politicians that don't lube ya up before doing the deed, and taint-sucking telemarketers that call you repeatedly at 3 am. Okay, they're fucking clowns too, but different from any regular run-of-the-mill clown.

Glad we got that cleared up.

This is but one example that I have received about my contribution to the site (or certain aspects of it). I don't even think it warrants a response, but I guess this ass clown was determined to get SOMETHING out of me... so instead of an email reply I will instead mock him in front of an audience for the uberlulz. Personally, I think this guy is a complete whacko. I'll let you come to your own conclusions.

Dearest most-est wonderful Static:


My name is Pogo the Clown. While searching the internet for links to clowning-related pages, I was confronted with the GODDAMN Angry Clown page, and to say the least, I was extremely offended by your writings... fucko. Now WAIT--before you go off and take this as a complete complaint, I want you to know that I KNOW you have (1) the right to expression, and (2) the right, frankly, to not like clowns. But literally thousands of children DO like clowns, and search for the word "Clowns" every day.


Truth be told: it's hurting my business (which includes birthday parties, mitzvahs, and Strip-O-Grams), and and I'm running out of children, especially boys, to "entertain". While you do have the right to expression, you do not have the right to slanderize the entire clowning industry, nor any particular "clown" therein.


I might agree with you on some of the things on your page--but that picture of the clown tied up on the train tracks? I think that is an extremely poor use of judgement on your part. I would have complained about that myself much sooner if I knew.


Any way, what you are doing is EXTREMELY detrimental to the art of clowning. Thus, I would ask you to please remove all detrimental and/or destructive graphics and materials from your page. I don't think we have to elaborate on what is opinion and what is destructive--good common sense tells us both that.


I have contacted Google on the content of your page, Yahoo! about the link to your site, as well as the companies from which you have received your awards, as well as the WGN Broadcasting company concerning your graphics. Please do not take this personally; but the content of your writing and the Angry Clown web pages are more than just an opinion--it is a complete display of hatred toward the art of clowning.


If you wish to contact me, you may do so at JWGacy@gmailz.com.
Thank you in advance for your understanding and cooperation.


John Wayne Gacy
Pogo Enterprises


p.s. if you are ever in the Chicago area, feel free to stop by my house. Just let yourself into the basement, grab a ghb laced beer and make yourself at home.

 Gee, that was stirring. John included this rather interesting photo of himself. This image might look quite innocent, but the person under the clown make-up and Pogo persona, is none other than John Wayne Gacy. It's true. He was not really executed. It was all faked. Don't you know by now that bureaucracy makes sharpening a pencil a monumental and expensive task? It was far cheaper and easier to let him go, and then relocate him several times.

To know that this 'man' raped and murdered at least 33 young men and was a known clown is enough to make my skin crawl. No, not every clown is a murderous, sick human. But if anybody out there is wondering where my opinions of the man come from, take a look and just try to imagine... being subjected to extreme sodomy, getting murdered, and then buried in a crawl space next to dozens of other rotting corpses, by an Angry Clown like Pogo.


So, as the master of ready wit and stunning repartee, my response to you John, (a.k.a. Pogo) is simply...
Fuck off you red-nosed buggering bastard.


For more excrement and half-witted commentary visit: Krapsody

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Dr Phill ain't got shit on me

Why bother getting up out of bed every morning, why do anything, why try, whats the point?

In my line of work (chef ) I hear it all the time, "life sux, everything sux, I hate my life", complain, complain, complain and you know what I'm sick of freaken hearing it!!! If you life is soooo farken bad that you need to spend every waking hour of it complaining then maybe you should do something about it!!

Your complaining is totally fucked up and whats worse its annoying the crap out of me. Trust me when I say your life isn't that bad, do you have to eat food from the garbage or do you live in a box and have aids and missing your left nut, no? Then shut the fuck up.

When you end up starving and pissing blood while getting raped by a gang of angry mountain apes dressed like angry clowns then maybe you can complain about it but I will need proof and pictures.

I'm totally sick of this shit if you haven't already noticed, how gives a fuck if you lost your house in the 'credit crunch' or lost your billion dollar boat, I don't want to hear about it everyday and hour I'm awake...dick.

If you hate your life so much then heres an idea, ummm let me think TRY CHANGING IT its not that fucking hard to change jobs, move or kill your family and start new in a different country!

You CAN change your life and unless your in prison then you have no excuse so next time before you start complaining about the price of beer just remember the next person that does without being raped by apes with aids will get a dump on their shoes and a punch to the face because thats how I roll.

This post was brought to by:
CAPTAIN KIRKS CRACK CLEANER
FOR THAT ULTRA CLEAN CRACK!

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The Enlightening Journey Of The Insufferable Bastards- Chapter 1

"Oh Damo, it's too big," explained the large breasted, darkhaired pole dancer.

Damo gave her that trademark look that signaled frustration. Gina continued, "Maybe if you take it nice and slow and try to twist it in." Licking her lips, she offered Damo a wink.

Damo smiled, took her cup of beer and slowly twisted it into the cup holder of his car. "Hey," said Damo. "It fuckin' worked."

Damo and Gina had just left the party and were going back to her place. Between the two of them, they had eleminated nearly a quarter keg of beer. For the last hour or so, all Damo could think about was going back to his new friend's apartment. She had promised to demonstrate a new trick she had learned. Damo had a boner that could bore through steel.

Just as he pulled into Gina's driveway, Damo heard a car horn blow behind him. Irritated, Damo shouted, "What the fuck!" A black Pontiac GTO pulled in behind him, screeching to a halt, inches from their back bumper. Damo looked in his rear view mirror, instantly knew who it was, then shook his head.

Kelly, Damo's brother in mischief and spirit, came up to the door of Damo's car. Clearly, he was excited. He had that crazed look in his eyes, too.

"Get out, man," demanded Kelly. "I have to talk to ya!"

Damo said, "It will have ta wait, mate. Gina was going ta show me her new trick."

"No, it can't wait."

Kelly pulled Damo's car door open and pulled the drunken bastard out by the arm. Normally, Damo would have put up a fight, but he had drank so much, his legs had the feeling of jello. Kelly grabbed his shoulders to keep him on his feet. Gina cried out, still in the passenger seat, "Are we going in or what? I have to piss." Damo turned around, "Go on. I'll be there in a minute."

Staggering slightly, Damo asked, "What do you need ta tell me, mate? I've got a woody that could cut through brick and this girl has a body that-"

Kelly stated, "Yeah, I know."

Damo said, "Get on with it then."

Kelly propped Damo up against the side of his car, took a few steps back and started to related to him the important news.

"Do you know how I told you I was going to go on a quest to find the right religion for me?"

Damo replied, "Yeah, but I figured you had either totally lost your freakin' mind or was telling me shit."

Kelly nodded, then said, "Well, I started it, went through with it and came to a conclusion."

Damo reminded him, "I've got a dark haired lass in there that can bend her legs back behind her ears. And she told me her new trick has something to do with that position."

Kelly quickly popped a magical pill into Damo's slack jawed mouth. Damo choked the pill down with the beer left in the car. "I'm guessin' dat was a little blue pill?," asked Damo. Kelly said, "Somethin' to help ya keep your timber straight for the next three hours, yeah. And more." Kelly laughed. Damo saw the evil in his eyes and laughed with him.

Kelly sat on the ground, opposite of his friend, Damo. He began, "Well, first I decided to go to a Baptist church and talk to the local minister. After asking him a variety of questions, I decided they had too many rules and too much silliness to take seriously. I told the minister he was full of shit and walked out.

"From there, I drove to St. Paulie's Catholic Church. I went in, talked to the priest for hours and couldn't believe the obvious crap he was trying to push on me. I walked out, more than a little perturbed that he was trying to convince me that every sperm is sacred and should only be used for making babies. I told him he was ignorant, threw a couple balls of lint from my pocket in the the church donation basket and walked out.

"I was so angry, I went out to the front of his church and changed the letters on the church marquee so that it would convey a more meaningful message.

"Still, I didn't lose hope. I got back inside the car, as the priest came running outside, shouting profanities and went back out onto the road.

"A few hours later and I turned into the driveway of Twin Lakes Lutheran Church. Frustrated, I went inside and talked to the minister. He blathered on and on, telling me that Lutherans believe that every word in the bible is the exact word of God. I explained that it was impossible for that to be true since the bible was written by a buttload of different people at different times with different perspectives on what they had experienced or heard, secondhandedly. Of course, I left, afterwards.

"Out of gloom and spite for this minister's blind ignorance, I changed up the words on their church sign, as well. It made me feel a little bit better. Especially, after I went back inside the church and pissed on the blessed carpeting

"But ya know, I continued my journey in search of a new religion for the following weeks and I've come to the following conclusion."

Damo looked into his friend's eyes and asked, "What's that?"

"That all organized religion is bullshit," declared Kelly.

Damo said, "Ya got that right, dude."

Damo suddenly demanded, "Hey, meet me at my place tomorrow night. I've got another quest in mind for the both of us. Something you'll like." It was Damo's turn to laugh evilly. Kelly smiled, in anticipation. Whatever Damo had planned, he was sure he would be more than happy to be a part of it.

Damo got his back off the car and walked toward the door of Gina's house. Kelly heard him say, "But first I got some business to attend to." More laughter followed.

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Let's Hear it For Beer!

Sun. Oct. 26, 2008

Beer serves another useful purpose, as you will find out in this story.

Boise, Idaho (Krapsody) - An off duty prison guard on a Halloween party beer run, smacked an armed robber over the head with a six-pack, putting down a robbery at a gas station convenience store.

According to video evidence and police investigations, the armed robber entered the convenience store around 10:00 p.m., waving what appeared to be a large black rubber dildo in the air.

After what seemed to be an exchange of words with the cashier, a man dressed up as Batman (the off duty prison guard) came running up behind the robber and smacked him over the head with the six-pack.

Once the robber was knocked unconscious, the off duty prison guard and a customer dressed up as Robin, who also witnessed the event, then pulled famous internet gags on their assailant, such as "the beer bottle outline" and "face paint the drunk".


Robin, used his camera phone and took photographs of the perpetrator. The Dynamic Duo uploaded them to the internet for gratuitous LAWLZ, until police arrived thirty minutes later (names of customers are being withheld to protect their identities).

The off duty prison guard claims, "It all happened so fast man. Thank the lord for Budweiser tall boys in a can and even more thanks for that thirty minutes we had to take all them pictures!"

The officers revived the robber by opening a Slim Jim under his nose, much like smelling salts. The robber jolted up finally, then upon seeing his reflection in the windows, freaked out and slapped one of the officers in the neck. He was eventually subdued and taken to police headquarters for hosing down and processing.


James Bridges, 46, is charged with robbery, and assault and battery upon an officer. He is also charged with being the ugliest man alive in 2008. The black rubber dildo was not found at the scene. Although after a full body cavity search, the body of Jimmy Hoffa was found in Mr. Bridge's colon. BONUS!

"We would never want anyone to risk their own safety, but this is a case where two citizens, acting quickly and decisively literally caught a criminal," Boise Police Lt. Ron Winegar said in a prepared statement, "and we discovered the body of Jimmy Hoffa in the process. I guess this is a closed case," he added.


Amazingly, the two heroes didn't even know each other before dressing up as Batman and Robin. Now, these two should definitely throw back a few cold brews together. And maybe have the usual homoerotic adventure in the "Batcave", just like their "anonymously gay" heroes did.


This Story Brought To You By:

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GTH-Compassion

I am Going to Hell, GTH, and Number 2: My Lack of Compassion



While relieving the four beers and the beef Burrito I ate at 2am today, my attention moved from absolute stench of the moment to a crime related headline in the newspaper.



“Death row inmate: I'm too fat to execute”



In Columbus, Ohio a death row inmate named Richard Cooey, 41, says he is too fat to be executed after raping and murdering two young women in 1986.



The article centers on the possibility that the fat ass will have pain during his execution because it is difficult to find his veins due to his oversized carcass. His trophy to gluttony makes it difficult to deliver enough anesthesia to reduce the pain from the lethal injection that would be used to kill him.


Instead of taking his plea for leniency and showing him some compassion I go into a rant:

You fuckin fat bastard, if you didn’t spend your time eating lard and cheese sandwiches, you may have given a woman an opportunity to give you a little sexual pleasure before your crime spree.


But NO, you take the hard road to pleasure and rape and murder women in desperation.

Then after all that, you want us to give you a pass, because you are still a fat bastard and we will not be able to find your veins?


Wrong answer. Here are your options:

1. Go on a rice cake and water diet until you can lose enough weight so we can administer the anesthesia so your fat worthless ass will not feel the pain of death; OR


2. We stick you fat ass into a guillotine and cut your head off, then you can eat to your heart’s content without gaining any weight.


You have 30 days to choose a method, if you fail to comply, we will just put a shotgun in your mouth and blow your head off!

Related: GTH-Courtesy – No. 1

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