May a gallon of Swahilli wives superimpose the head of Fem-Bots onto a picture of fire ants in your favorite skull.
May an infinite amount of cornfused members of The Village People get a lewd tattoo of bottled water inside your wart covered secret lover, Roseanne Barr.
May three trillion moldy Sadam Hussein offspring spank refried beans outside your engorged shaft.
May 666 sickly cannibals exclaim "Oh yeah? You and what army!?" to Big League Chew outside your mom's mailman.
May 999 bulbous Iowa Hawkeye Football Players watch "Bakin' Bacon with Macon" with icecube trays while defecating on your fake home.
May an insane amount of free-flowing librarians ignite a fire of beer after sabotaging Mike's knockers.
May a quartet of feathered SWBell technical support sniff milkshakes while thinking lustfully of your dog's ear wax.
May a harem of swindling Spice Girls attack squid tentacles with the Vulcan Pinch of Captain Morgan Rum while getting it on with your platypus.
May a bushel of futuristic Osama Bin Ladens wax jelly beans while performing a full cavity search on your worthless yoga master.
May a plethora of yellow Santa Clauses injest Meow Mix using only vaseline and your swimming pool.
May a baker's dozen of wild corpses have an affair with sex-crazed fish balls after having to amputate your blue and red tights.
May a dozen lice infested sumo wrestlers hex a case of Zima over your gelatinous bat guano.
May an english quart of flaccid boy bands do a wink-wink nudge-nudge to statues of Kevin Bacon while hiding out in your boss's Prime Number Shitting Bear.
May 2 recovering alcoholic strippers maul Manwich after hearing a loud *pop* coming from your mysterious nose hair.
May a truckload of radioactive Iowa Hawkeye Football Players headbutt chap stick out from underneath a portion of your prostate.
May three bazillion fleshy Mikes consummate the marriage of lepers in your pet wooly mammoth.
May 32 dancing grave diggers utter "Great Scott!" to scantily clad women while wizzing on your 250 year old hottub.
May 777 flaming AT&T cable service workers slip on senators all over your disfigured shorn scrotum.
May 128 angelic clowns overdose on bottled water while having a bowel movement on your worthless armpit.
May a mob of insane crustaceans belch Frogurt while wizzing on Mike's knockers.
May an infinite amount of ripe transvestites spontaneously combust after getting angry at mayonnaise using only your calcium enriched tent.
May a quartet of handicapped Beenie Baby collectors spread the herpes virus to chicken mcnuggets (aka "jagged web developers") all over your silicone enhanced bag of potatoes.
May 50 billion worried strippers dial 1-900-aquarium for a good time with chicken mcnuggets while fending off your imaginary armpit.
May many wired 5th cousins whip squid tentacles beside a portion of your log.
May 8 retarded Enron executives talk smack about senators underneath your mysterious skull.

Insulter v2.0 BETA 6 by Mike Newman
Words by Ted Harapat, Mike Newman, and others

# of combinations: 95,452,911,314,134,608


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