Friday, November 04, 2005

Obviously Overcompensating for Something
I'm upper class high society, God's gift to ballroom notoriety. I always fill my ballroom, The event is never small. The social pages say I've gotThe biggest balls of all
I've got big balls, I've got big balls, And they're such big balls Dirty big balls And he's got big balls And she's got big balls But we've got the biggest balls of them all
- - AC/DC
Where the fuck are you going in this? Really. Where, exactly, is it that you live? Unless your ass is positioned atop a mountain somewhere (a MOUNTAIN....not at the TOP of your STREET) this monstrosity is completely worthless. Just go out and buy a fucking tractor trailer. For shit sake, they probably get the same gas mileage. In fact, considering that tractor trailers are diesel, they probably get better gas mileage than this asshole-machine. Where's your M-50 machine gun riveted to the roof?? Just think...then you cold shoot FAGS when you drive by or LIBERALS!!! Right? You could waste all those Leftist COMMIES with their anti-Bu$h bumperstickers. God damn traitors. Un-patriotic bastards. Not a TRUE patriot like yourself, right?? Wasting our non-renewable resources, destroying both the roads this piece of shit rolls over AND the environment. Blindly following Bu$hCo. into disaster. I swear, if I'm EVEr at a gas station and I hear some limp-dicked fool complaining about the cost of gas while filling up a HUMMER, I'm gonna go off. WAY OFF.
Oh I know, I know, you gotta haul all your little wonderful children around town. To the mall, to their NUMEROUS friends houses (Hummers make you more popular, did you know that?? WOW), to the gas station, to the country club, back to the gas station, to get your nails done, then hair, then back to the fucking gas station, etc etc etc. These monstrous, ultra-pretentious, neo-con toting FUCKTRUCKS are ridiculous. And women look like MORANS* (shout out to DU and those freeperville assfucks) driving them.
I hate these ridiculous machines. Whenever I see some asshole speeding around like they rule the fucking world in one of these wasteful FUCKTRUCKS, I laugh. I throw my head back and I laugh and laugh and laugh. First off, more likely than NOT you're an asshole. The bigger the FUCKTRUCK, the bigger the asshole behind the wheel. You know the type, cellphone plastered to their head, blathering on about, well, about NOTHING!!!!! I hear these cellphone conversations, they're worthless. I live in a MAJOR city and not ONCE, NEVER.....have I EVER heard an "important" cell phone conversation. They ALL go something like this.....Annoying, pretentious little ring (a ring that says "look at me, I'm so fucking cool! Someone is calling ME, not YOU, ME!!! ME ME ME ME ME ME ME!!"), fumbling and bumbling around to get phone off hip, outta purse/pocket/ass. "Hello??" (looks around to see if anyone is taking notice of how fucking important they are) PAUSE......."at the mall. Just picking up a new sweater. Where are YOU?" This is the extent of 99.99987521% of ALL cell phone conversations. You can switch the body of the conversation up slightly to fit the circumstances (at the pharmacy, getting drugs/at the grocery store, just picking up a few things/at the urologist seeing if I still have a dick or has it gone completely flacid and shrunk into my abdomen. Did I tell ya' I'm buying a HUMMER?) but they all revolve around that exact scenario.
People are obsessed with what OTHER people are doing. They simply cannot BELIEVE that someone else is doing something better/more exciting than THEY are. Take personal blogs, for example. Why would I want to read what Joe Schmoo in South Fuck, Idaho did MINUTE BY MINUTE But people feel it necessary to tell others about every minute detail in their most likely pathetic lives. So I don't get all that. One day, I swear, before I die I want to hear a truly important cellphone conversation, something along the lines of "Ok, can you see the heart??? Good, now reach you hand into the chest and pinch off the bleeder! Can you see the bleeder? It's probably the aorta, running down the backside of the heart. Ok, hold your hand there. Did the bleeding stop?? Great! Ok, now start massaging the heart with your other hand. One squeeze every second or so. Good....has it started yet?? It HAS?? Great!!! Now call 911." If I hear that actual conversation, I will be satisfied. Until then....shut the fuck up with your nonsensical, unimportant, self-absorbed BLATHERING.