Okay you fucking window lockers, Operation get the fuck out of Commie State was a success and I’m back to the regular world where guns don’t have to play mermaid or tranny surgery to make their actions pop open. Now that I’ve pulled a back muscle lugging my giant dick around all day, I find myself with enough time to try and continue educating the mouth breathing masses. Remember, if you’re going to be a fat, useless bitch please max out your credit cards so you’re at least a worthwhile loot cow.

Moving on.

I’ve heard a lot of you asking me about IFAKS or maybe I’ve finally reached the point where more than 6 hours asleep sends me into pink elephant land and the walls are talking to me again. They aren’t speaking Vietnamese but they do keep suggesting I order moo goo gai Pan ; I’m guessing the meth downloaded that clock noise app so I’ll probably be gone any day now. Before then, however, I’m gonna tell y’all the five biggest necessities for an IFAK so you can Gucci up your kit and some retard can come apply the shit to you all fucked up after you get yourself popped by the three letter soup bois.

Some quick notes beforehand so busy out your crayons and give me one to snack on. IFAKs are Individual First Aid Kits meant for you. Don’t use your fuckin IFAK on someone else, use theirs or let em die if they’re too goddamn dumb to have one of their own. This means you should customize shit to be used on you. If you’re a big fuckin boi, get an xl tourniquet and pack extra gauze motherfucker. Position the goddamn thing so you can reach it with either hand, too. Nothing dumber than dying because you put your fuckin Dora Band-aids on your ass end and can’t reach em while you’re leakin kool aid all over the fuckin floor.

1. Motherfucking. Chest. Seal. Will a plastic bag and duct tape do? Sure. And a fat hooker can pull a load out of you if need be but it ain’t my first or second choice. Get a goddamn chest seal so you’re aren’t sucking wind like the fuckin clarinet section that FOR SOME GODDAMN REASON meth wants to go watch at the local goddamn museum. ITS ADULTS PLAYING THE RECORDER GODDAMNIT WHY DOES THIS SHIT COST A HIPOINT PER TICKET

2. Tourniquet. And make sure you get the kind with a winding stick; you don’t wanna fucking compartment your shit and find out that rhabdomyolysis is even less fun to die from than it is to spell. If you need practice figuring out how a tourniquet works, try it on your neck.

3. Israeli Bandage. Unless you feel like using a hand to keep pressure on your new holes instead of fingerfuckin your raifu’s fun button. The Antisemites who seem to love hanging here are welcome to substitute cheese cloth and then go fuck themselves with a rake, though.

4. Pressure Bandages. Much like socks, beer, or ammo you’ll wanna pack more than you think you need. If you’re a big fat fuck, pack even more than that. Big bois bleed like stuck pigs so you’d better bring extra to the party or you’ll be makin like a vampire’s leftovers real fuckin quick.

5. This one is arguable but I’d recommend Quick Clot. You could go with an airway device, too, though; say a CPR mask or nasal tubing. Your call, but I’d stick with stuff that helps me keep as much of my blood as possible; the airway shit you can make do without until you can’t, and by then you’re fucked anyhow.

Okay that’s a lot of words and I’ve got a date with some moonshine and a deep, abiding hatred of Commies. Go fuck yourselves or something.