Hamburger Head the Manga Promotional Art

There’s an Exciting New Manga Called “Hamburger Head” Being Developed!

This is a campaign to fund my manga project.  The money raised is to pay the illustrator(s) and make Hamburger Head available for overseas distribution. I want the debut to be physically available to the public. On the surface the idea seems simple: Three girls hunt and slaughter(in a very unique way) those who prey upon others. Unbeknownst to them, there are two warring factions “holding the strings” that violently oppose the other’s ideology. Home of Jackal1433 Productions and Campaign

Take Out Your Cock Spaceman…or…I’ll Start Fucking Black Chicks..Not Another Step!

Refreshing drinks at this hotel makes me think of elderly pubic hair and the correct pronunciation of the “Louvre'”. I’m batting .500 at getting a room that accommodates the handicapped. I don’t think inn keepers know how to interoperate sexy or handsome. I usually walk into the lobby with confidence as not to give an impression of a junkie. When you’re a shy adult you have to put on this act. “Hello, may I have your hair?” ” The room is $67 dollars a night. You look like a retarded man that no one wants to fuck.” “Very well. Is there a discount for ones birthday?” Tender mannerisms and hushed tones reserved for the mentally ill follow, “No, but it doesn’t hurt to ask does it?” She pats my head and gives me a lollipop . My room key is unsheathed from the rest of the keys. “Is that black velvet?” “Sir, sometimes…please don’t make a mess.” “I won’t”. Why was she tearing up?
My room is two doors down from the soda machines. But people here don’t seek sugary temptations on a hot August day. A woman is ahead of me yelling into her phone. She either just woke up or took a monster shit. She’s light on her toes. I begin to laugh thinking about banging the spider veins out of her legs. In reality her horrible breath and ghoulish life would make the idea of an erection a tale of suspense and fantasy. She’d cough on my cock. She’d look up at me with her wall-eyes and dead tooth, “Baby?”. Two men on speed, rub their bare chests and laugh their asses off at 2:30 in the afternoon. “Hey! How ya’ doin?!?” “good…” NO, DAMMIT USE YOUR BALLS! ” Good! What’s up? How ya’ll doin!” That passive-aggressive faggy bullshit is the drum many of these fucking idiots march by, not only here, but in the south in general.
I get to the room and dive into the bed, screaming into my pillow like a girl that accidentally called the school hunk. I straighten and kick my toes, gossiping with the devil. I rip the comforter off the bed and stuff it in the corner. I need ice. i look at the trash can and the ice bucket. Through my experience as a janitor I know it’s easier to take a few cum, shit, period bloodied tissues out of the trash than change the liner. I use the small bucket. Remember to keep it in the fridge. Breaking up ice in the wee hours could attract daddy\police. The bathroom is huge. I feel as though I should be insulted that I give off the handicapped vagrant vibe, but this fucker is spacious. I stand on the huge vanity and look at my asshole. I accidentally catch me looking at me, “Happy Birthday, man.”