Listen, you wrinkly old fucker, in case you are too stupid to remember this, I'm going to remind you. Out here in Boondocks, no one speeds for any reason. One mile per hour over gets your ass a ticket. You know this. I know this. Everyone here knows this. But today is hot and you are cranky. You feel like being an asshole, which you made abundantly clear. So you rode my ass while cruising the shoulder, as if your stupid old ass halfway on the shoulder is a signal to me to get over.
Let me refresh your memory concerning traffic laws. You want me to move? Fine, flash your brights and I'll get over.
Ride my ass while playing on the shoulder? Fuck off.
Everyone but you was doing exactly the speed limit. You had plenty of room to pass us all by if you wanted to get a ticket. But what you really wanted wasn't to go fast. What you wanted was to fuck with someone.
You did see the "Reduced Speed Ahead" sign, right? You saw how the speed limit dropped from 65 to 55 and then to 45, right? Did you see that or were you too busy playing on the shoulder, nearly hitting those signs with your car? I ask because everyone else saw them. Everyone else was slowing down, avoiding the speed trap that is perpetually "on" in this town. It's a small price to pay for the piece of mind of not having to deal with Memphis and its' associated idiot drivers. And by idiot drivers I mean fuckers like you.
Did you notice that my exhaust pipe has a tear in it? Yeah, I know you did 'cause you were acting like a little old bitch about it. You got next to me and plugged your ears like it was killing you. Your fucking windows were up, while mine were down. I hear it more than you do and while it isn't pleasant, it isn't any louder than an old Volkswagen Bug. In fact, it sounds JUST LIKE ONE.
You want to hear loud, bitch? Let me go get my big-block 1970 Chevelle SS and open the headers for you. Don't stand too close, though. It'll rattle your teeth right out of your shrunken old head when I open it up.
Ah, but you are PMSing today and you want to play bitch with me. So you, who wanted to go faster than the Boondocks Cops will allow, just a moment before, cut right in front of me, no blinker involved, nearly taking off my bumper, and then slowed down, as if I had wronged you. Suddenly you didn't want to go fast anymore. You much preferred being a wrinkled old penis in a champagne Buick LeSabre which, by the way, I will be seeing again and again as there are only 9000 people out here in Boondocks, and you and I are 2 of them. All the other old fuckers drive Lincoln Town Cars and Crown Victorias, which leaves you standing out like a sore thumb in your gay pinkish Buick.
I will remember you, asshole. I will remember your ugly-assed faggy old car, too. I will remember you with your fingers in your ears sitting at the light as I passed you in the turning lane on my way to a left turn leading me back to work while you were on your way to .... buy new panties? Who knows what a useless old fucker like you might be off to do, other than pick fights with 'them young'uns and their loud hotrods.'
Next time you ride my ass while cruising the shoulder I will make you kiss it. Next time you fuck with me I will bend you over. If the heat has made you a bitch, get your air-conditioner fixed. If it works then use it. If you've got it on and yet you still feel like being a bitch to other drivers, you had better never pick me as your target again. I will not forget.
You have read this article champagne buick lesabre /
Loonies on the path /
old dickhead
with the title Loonies On The Path - XXXIX - Wrinkly Old Fucker. You can bookmark this page URL http://thebohemianbunny.blogspot.com/2007/08/loonies-on-path-xxxix-wrinkly-old-fucker.html. Thanks!
