Hi. Nice car. A Hummer, huh. Wow, it’s… yellow. Very yellow. Bet it gets crappy mileage. Don’t even want to bring up emissions. Nor would I dream of suggesting that a vehicle that large is perhaps a trifle overkill for a single-person commute. But that’s not what I came in here for today.
No, it’s because you were driving like an impatient bladder-challenged little girl through gridlock traffic on US 183 this morning, almost rear-ending me and nearly taking off my front-left corner, trying to weave through traffic like you’re in some fucking sports car. I can’t tell you how many brakelights went on just because of your insipid selfish carelessness, and it’s anyone’s guess as to how much you personally slowed down the traffic jam because people were having to slam on the brakes to avoid getting ass-rammed by your ugly yellow brick.
Here’s a hint: ten foot wide bricks don’t slalom. Even if they’re painted yellow. Dipshit.
Now don’t get me wrong. I can appreciate the importance of the situation. You had a legitimate “thing” come up at last minute, and so justifiably failed to prepare for the commute, and it’s understandable that you feel it’s everyone else’s emergency, like the walking fungal infection that you are. I really feel your pain, you mouthbreathing twit. It really is a pain for you heroes, you titans, you gods who drop more money on a car than I can on my education: for you to have to sit through gridlock like us lower life forms; or look at a map and find an alternate route; or - God forbid - leave earlier so you can reach your destination on time. Vacuous snotnosed ass mint. I only shake my head in remorse, that I couldn’t do more to help you in your desparate predicament. Grandstanding pigfucker.
But please don’t think I’m bashing the car …er, truck …er, brick on wheels. It looks expensive, right down to the chrome bumper bars and the magnetic yellow ribbon. (I might not have picked yellow - there’s too many similarities between your vehicle and the short bus.) Your Hummer was clearly chosen to impress. You’ve certainly left an impression on dozens of people this morning, you crusty-faced ass-wart.
There is no doubt now as to the length of your penis. I bet it’s inconvenient to travel with it, having to roll it up and set it on the passenger’s seat while you drive. I bet it’s a real danger rolling down the windows, 'cause then your whale-like love snake would be flapping in the wind, getting muddy and letting the neighborhood dogs play on it and all. I, for one, would hope you understand that I would be sitting in the back seat, given the unlikely circumstance of you driving me somewhere, because I would hesitate to trample on your impressive dick. The owner of a schlong that long must have a long road to ho.
But I digress. I admit I was rather put off by your delerious navigational enthusiasm. But the icing on the cake, the coup de grâce, le pièce de résistance, is the cigarette butt you flicked as you were driving by. I apologize if I laughed, I just didn’t think it could get more clichéd than that.
Jackass.