This would be the perfect post card to send to someone you despise. Not only will you ruin their appetite, but you might discourage them from ever visiting Florida (then there will be one less asshole clogging up our freeways).

If these assholes don't cover themselves up with clothing, I'll cover them up with the contents of my stomach.

Here's a clue for the fat people out there: If you need suspenders to keep your shorts up, don't wear them!

Somebody call PETA, because we have a beached whale on our hands. On second thought, I retract that statement-- saying she's "on our hands" makes me want to take a chainsaw to my elbows.

This postcard falls somewhere between Mountain Dew and Saltpeter on the scale of impotence.

After I saw this postcard (and I resisted the urge to run to the automotive department, douse myself with antifreeze, and light a match), I almost broke down in tears due to the serious mental trauma it induced. (The image above has been drastically cropped. Trust me; it was bad!)

Here's a disturbing thought: What if pictures like this one encourage tourism? The thought of an old woman (any woman over the age of 40 who isn't Pam Anderson) nude is enough to leave the horniest of men impotent, and yet they broadcast this image to all the old bitches with dead husbands?

Just eww.