I love this
http://www.mob.net/~ted/insult.php3May 666 inbred Monty Python fanatics sell their souls to the devil for a box of burial urns after abducting your cross-dressing helicopter.
May 411 grape jelly covered accountants embark on a mission armed with only fire ants behind your pet jelly-fish.
May a few former Sunday-School teachers build a 260 meter tall tower made entirely of soiled diapers while laying on your expensive secret lover, Roseanne Barr.
May 2 flaming Space Ghosts play spin the bottle with trail mix of doom while having a bowel movement on your crusty fecal matter.
May a gallon of wicked Regis Philbins suck on earlobes within your WrestleMania t-shirt.
May a dozen homeless Scooby Doos place their buttocks on the office copying machine next to chap stick in the vicinity of Mike's wazoo.
May three bazillion of my favorite 5th cousins say "Hello? Algiers?" to pot while standing on your filthy toilet paper.
May a gallon of senile insurance agents devour some pasta below your crusty golf cart.
May 777 starving telemarketers beat iMacs above your gigantic labia majora.
May an imaginary number of blue Mr. Hankeys share their inner-most secrets with special sauce all over your dinner salad.
May 411 paper thin Roshnis decapitate Toucan Sam below your hairy cake hole.
May a bushel of blue scientists do a wink-wink nudge-nudge to beefhearts after sabotaging your delicious pet jelly-fish.
May a crowd of homosexual Fem-Bots brainwash cancerous growths after hearing a loud *pop* coming from your dreaded thingy.
May an english quart of nacho cheese covered construction workers go down on spaghetti after consuming your family jewels.
May 3,000 obese mummies take a pee on turd-pie while hiding out in your delicious fat rolls.
May eleven deviant telemarketers use Nads hair remover on fire ants while tinkering with your delicate ear wax.
May 1,024 unshaven wives grope saltines within your bat guano.
May 4 starving elephant men break up the monopoly of shrunken heads within your crappy uvula.
May 98 crafty Bob Zimmerman Ford rip-off service staff members dance a jig with a sharp stick on your chocolate covered family jewels.
May 128 ripe garbage men wish they didn't catch the dinner guest virus from AOL start-up disks while wizzing on your chicken.
May 777 worried jaywalkers go so far as to inquire "Where's the Beef?" to Shakespeare inside your least favorite Russian mail-order bride.
May 2,000 tenderized Monty Python fanatics enroll in the National Institute of WonderBras and the Arts to study a basket of handsome tomatoes around your shriveled up Tater Twister.
May 4 former telemarketers erect chickens after shoving glass shards into your freakin' huge George Foreman Grill.
May 911 starving damn dirty college basketball coaches enjoy the classic kids story "Green Eggs and spicey jalape????ausages" while they suck the life out of a basket of fleshy tomatoes while worshiping your unusually small swimming trunks.
May one million of my favorite corpses prefer to be known as lard over your deep fat fried scooter... FOR ME TO POOP ON!
