I’ve written about my intense love for Juggalos before, but never have I taken the steps necessary to really cement the bond. Thanks to the many of you (see: EIGHT) who assumed that I like portly, acne-ridden closet Jews, and sent me a link to Juggalove.

According to the website itself, the social networking platform is “Dating for the Wicked!” I figured that in my case, I could replace “wicked” with “horny and ready to settle,” no problem.

Mormons have LDS Singles, professional female grifters have Sugar Daddy for Me, and people who want to get that one last fuck in have Prescription 4 Love; so why wouldn’t a Juggalo have the same option?

Unlike these other websites, who hire professional-ish actors to pose as a victim of AIDS riding a bike, or a smoking blonde bombshell who is just looking for that “special connection,” Juggalove does none of that. Straight from the get-go, you’re presented with exactly what the site has to offer. The words “upsetting,” “floppy,” and “incest” instantly come to mind.

If you’re looking, not only for the things nightmares are made of, but some hot underage painted pussy, Juggalove is the site for you! Fortunately, there is a search option by age, and you are able to go as low as 16 years. The only thing that could be worse than fucking Ronald, is having Ronald be sloppy seconds. Get ‘em fresh, am I right?

It’s obvious that I wouldn’t be able to resist signing up. Hoping to find the one true psychopathic love of my life, I set out and created a profile of my very own.

Within minutes of signing up, I had a few new messages; which leads me to believe that the people this site consists of sit and wait for fresh meat. Whatever the circumstances, the messages were truly brilliant.

Thanks to this site, I spent hours being the most unproductive person you have ever seen, and learned about the Juggaledge movement; which I feel is more than enough of a reason to join.

Breaking down barriers and bridging the cultural divide has never been easier, now that the common man has Juggalove. I suggest you pour yourself a nice glass of ice cold Faygo, spin the Twiztid jams, swallow your dignity down to your colon, and sign up. Meeting the Hatchet (Wo)Man of your dreams doesn’t have to be an unattainable goal, maybe just a miracle. (Photo: Hipster Runoff)