Dear Murray:I have a problem I hope you can help me with. (hehe) I have epilepsy and.. My assfuck doctors keep putting me on medication after medication. It’s fucking with me, physically and emotionally. All these different meds cause shitty side effects. What should I say or do tell them to kiss my ass? I’m not above calling nasty names too!
🙂 Thanks for your expert advice, Michelle
I once thought I had epilepsy. Turned out, though, that I was just looking at too many Myspace profiles where everygoddamnedthing <3 WaS *TyPeD* LiKe ThIs <3
Look, quit the bitchin’ and take charge! What is the perfect compliment to epilepsy? It’s goddamned well about time you flavored that with a little TOURETTE’S! Let’s face it, if there’s one debilitating disease out there we’d all love to be diagnosed with, it’s FUCKINGPISSFUCKHEAD TOURETTE’S! Hell, I’ve been pickling my brain for a good 60 years now with Snacky Cakes trying to score myself a positive diagnosis.
Imagine the looks on their faces if you came at ’em flailing AND cussing! Think Linda Blair in the Exorcist! Double up on the pea soup, just in time for Halloween!
Hell, at this point, I’ll bet the only thing wrong with you is the fact that you’re more jacked up on prescription drugs than Rush Limbaugh on a month-long Mexican hillbilly heroin binge!
Grab them motherfuckers by the balls and tell ’em LUCIPHER COMMANDS YOU TO EAT THEIR BALLS, and they’ll get a hell of a lot more accurate with their prescription pad, I GUARANTEE IT.
Now leave me the piss hell whore sucking cockhead fuck alone!
Categories: General Malaise Uncategorized
Dear Murray a tasty, tasty bitch beloved and feared by hordes of basement-dwelling illiterati and their fierce antagonists, the Grammar Nazis. He single-handedly turned the webcam whorefest of Myspace into a lively commerce of ideas, including whether or not the TUBGIRL photo will ever be topped as a postmodern expression of the inexpressible. According to web historians, he has inspired more photoshop projects and syphilis jokes than Britney Spears (who he has been repeatedly linked romantically to). He is also rumoured to be the father of Anna Nicole Smith's baby, a disciple of Cliff Yablonski, and the second gunman on the grassy knoll. Although he could not be reached for comment, he reportedly resides in or near the tent cities along the LA River Basin, third right after the walrus sunning station.
He has vehemently denied all charges that he is any any way responsible for that rash your wife claims "is from the heat".
His primary function is doling out advice; the inspiration sprang from an endless and eventually dull repetition of fucktards failed to heed his words.
A secondary result is a dysfunctional family "round table" of people who contribute innumerable one-liners and personal experiences, rarely related in any way to the actual question.
It is estimated that tens of thousands of readers have "LOL'd" approximately 5,395,645,694,167,467,105 times, with the toll expected to rise.
He is immune to kryptonite, chlamydia, and brainwashing.
Wikipedia has banned PENCILTITS's entry, debating the relevance of his tasty bitchiness.