Little Dicked Hater

Happy Anni-hearse-ary™ to stiff-arm saluting stain on humanity, Adolpho Hitler, who entered a state of extended rigor on April 30, 1945, thanks to the steadied, point-blank firing precision of his single-action Colt 45 handgun, ending an otherwise uneventful game of Russian Roulette with his clueless, cowardly wife of two days, Eva Brawn. (Mrs. Hitler would also die at her own brawny hands, thanks to the quick-acting, life-cessating cyanide tablet that scientists designed for the dislikes of her.) Hitler was a mama's boy at heartless, a bad seed who grew to become a malcontented teen fascinated with the unfounded notion that he was some sort of supreme Aryan being. (Spoiler alert: He wasn't.) After dropping out of technical school, the chronic self-abuser spent a year locked in his bedroom ejaculating into his grandmum's stockings whilst growing a sad toothbrush moustachio (pictured) which he thought would endear him to the hipster crowd in Vienna, but it backfired pathetically and sent the tormented loser packing for the German Luftwaffle® — well, army, but we rather like saying Luftwaffle® — after which, he became an unlikely, outspoken member of the Nazi party and, in time, a brown-shirted jackbooted Deutschbag™ without peer — or friends — somehow rising through the ranks until he was the rotting head of a bloodthirsty beast responsible for the genocide of many millions of innocent men, women and children. Nice goin', little dicked hater. European Jews far and away suffered the majority of losses in Hitler's Holocaust — upwards of 6 million — but others were targets of his misanthropy, including homosexuals, gypsies, Jehovah's Witnesses, the handicapped, and any aproned German who couldn't make a decent shnitzel. Homely and homophobic, Hitler was also a failed artist, a tedious memoirist and a sexual fetishist given to arousal by urination. We celebrate this anti-Semitic deathmonger's deathday by pissing on his grave.