OK, so this morning at around 11:00 AM, I am starting to mow the lawn. My neighbor, who moved in about 6 months ago, comes out in her pajamas and says to me “Don’t you know it’s Saturday?”
Well, hello, you stupid hag, I think I did. After all, it’s 11:00 AM and I’m not at work, so I’m pretty sure it’s not a regularly sceduled workday. I’ve already taken my daughter to a soccer game and I’ve been up for 5 hours already, so excuse the fuck out of me if I am interrupting your hangover. Come to think of it, were’nt you the one who said they moved into this neighborhood because the clean yards and lots of kids reminded you of where you grew up? You were, and I recognize your family from the news.
You are the crotch rot who buys a $500,000 house in the mountains and then screams at the sherrif when your pure bred cat becomes brunch for a lynx. You are the afterbirth who insists that the rescuers risk their lives to save your home that you had to build in the (choose one) {firezone/hurricane alley/earthquake faultline}. You are the one who moves into Manhattan and complains about the cab drivers blowing their horns.
If by some chance you don’t know who you are, Let me help with the ID. You are the toe jam eating ignoramus who thinks it is cool to bring a live cell phone to a concert/symphony/ball game. Let me give you a fucking reality check, self centered scumbag, you are not cool, you are not important, and you are not impressive. What you are is a bitch/bastard, a buzzkill, a buttlicker, and probably the worst of all, one whose existence, if a poll would to be taken among who you think are your peers, would cut you loose in a second.
I HATE YOU. If for some reason you still do not recognize yourself, I invite others to add their own specific ID’s. You need to know who you are.
Good night, and God Bless.