Email Cliff
CLIFF YABLONSKI HATES THESE PEOPLE:
01 02 03 04 05
06 07 08 09 10
11 12 13 14 15
16 17 18 19 20
21 22 23 24 25
26 27 28 29 30
31 32 33 34 35
36 37 38 39 40
41 42 43 44 45
46 47 48 49 50
51 52 53 54 55
56 57 58 59 60
61 62 63 64 65
66 67 68 69 70
71 72 73 74 75
76 77 78 79 80
81 82 83 84 85
86 87 88 89 90
91 92 93 94 95
96 97 98 99 100
101 102 103 104 105
106 107 108 109 110
111 112 113 114 115
116 117 118 119 120
121 122 123 124 125
126 127 128 129 130
131 132 133 134 135
136 137 138 139 140
141 142 143 144 145
146 147 148 149 150
151 152 153 154 155
156 157 158 159 160
161 162 163 164 165
166 167 168 169 170
171 172 173 174 175
176 177 178 179 180
181 182 183 184 185
186 187 188 189 190
191 192 193 194 195
196 197 198 199 200
201 202 203 204 205
206 207 208 209 210
211 212 213 214 215
216 217 218 219 220
221 222 223 224 225
226 227 228 229 230
231 232 233 234 235
236 237 238 239 240
241 242 243 244 245
246 247 248 249 250
251 252 253 254 255
256 257 258 259 260
261 262 263 264 265
266 267 268
CONTENT:


Wow, I Met Cliff!
Cliff Hates You All
Cliff is Furious
Cliff Does NOT Have a Drinking Problem
A Cliff Christmas Story
More About Cliff
Game: "Yablonski Tournament"
Game: "Schmuck Hunt"

CONTACT:


Submit a Picture of an Appleton City Native


Hosted by Something Awful

 

PAGE 146

< < PREVIOUS PAGE < <

MC Aluminum Siding thought he was hot shit because he got a picture of himself taken outside my toolshed (a work in progress). I shoved that camera so far up his goddamn ass that it'll be taking pictures of his trachea for the next three weeks. Jesus Christ, is it THAT hard to understand "KEEP AWAY" signs? Get the hell away from my toolshed, you pathetic bags of wasted sperm.

The Hunchback of Crotchbulge Lane. Yet another unemployed shitfucking gnome that lives in the basement of his parents' house. This clown used to be a cashier at the Walgreen's drug store until they caught him jacking off to the "WORLD'S FATTEST MAN MARRIES DOGBOY" tabloid one day.

Oh hoo-fucking-ray, Captain Horse's Ass is here to save the day and whatever leftovers you have in your refrigerator. The lardass has love handles the size of my Chrysler.

One of the South Appleton mutants entering the "awkward" stage. Nobody in this goddamn town ever seems to grow out of that stage, oddly enough.

The Goth Club meets to decide which mall they want to hang out in and talk about Marilyn Mason, their hero. They were given their own private meeting room in the old janitor's closet, because they used to get their asses kicked by the chess club and most of the kids from the grade school. I hate goths. I hate them even more than ravers. I want to jam drinking straws under their eyelids and pour Drano into their skulls.

George Stevens enjoys one of his favorite after-dinner treats, "Bucket o' Pig Fat." The guy's like one gigantic bloated zit that I want to pop. If congress would've passed that law making murder legal for me, I would be able to. But NOOOOOOOO. Nobody listens to a fucking veteran anymore. I served my country for years and come back to this shit. Having to put up with greasy-faced trolls and human rejects every waking hour of the goddamn day. This town is a hellhole.

< < PREVIOUS PAGE < <