Loonies On the Path - LII - Redneck in a Camaro

So it's a cold Thursday evening and it's rush hour. You have clearly stopped somewhere for a beer or twelve before getting back on the road to head to your trailer park. It's 28 degrees Fahrenheit, but you're crawling along blocking the passing lane with your window rolled all the way down so you can hang your arm out and signal to other drivers what you think of them. You've got your baseball hat on backwards as a marker of your status in life. The hat, coupled with the hunter green Camaro, your excessively slow passing-lane driving, and the inappropriateness of your window being down in this weather is all one giant waving red flag to the world that you are a rolling arrest record for various misdemeanors all involving alcohol and public nudity.

I'm not sure what your problem with me was, or if it was even specifically with me seeing as you were blocking the entire highway all at once with your intentional slowness, but when I passed you on the right and you sped up to block me out, then you had a problem with me, because I wasn't going to be blocked by a shithead loser like you. I passed you and suddenly you felt motivated to get up off your ass and accelerate. You also felt motivated to turn on your high beams, which had the effect of lighting up my rear bumper and reflecting off the chrome back into your own white trash face, genius. You tried tailgating me, but with my big-assed rear bumper and your plastic and not-so-fantastic Camaro it was a pretty empty threat. It was the sort of stupidity I'd expect from a Hee Haw winner like you, though.

I did enjoy it when we sat side-by-side at the red light. I liked looking down into your rolling trashcan of a car, all filled with every bag and can you'd eaten and drank from for the past 10 years, while you sat there trying to act badass with your backwards baseball hat and rolled down window. Is your window broken? Is that why you kept it down? I ask because I've noticed that all the rednecks around here always have their driver's door window rolled down and they always rest their arm on the door even when it's 28 degrees out. It's like saying "I'm too stupid to roll my window up, rain or shine or sleet or snow." And it did begin to sleet on your stupid ass, too. That made me laugh.

When I turned off the highway and you suddenly found your manhood long enough to show the world how high class you are with your extended middle finger, it was no surprise to anyone. Your Camaro labeled you a moonshine moron long before you held your hand up one finger at a time to show us. I'm sure when you got home to your trailer, which is no doubt in the trailer park located right next to the most infamous strip club in this city, Visionz, where your sister/girlfriend works, I'll bet you slammed your door good and hard to tell the world how angry you are, rattling the window that won't roll up because you broke it by slamming the door like that. And then you stomped into your single-wide trailer and slammed that door, too. I'll bet the instant you got inside you got another beer from the fridge before turning on your big-screen TV and flipping straight over to 'wrassling' didn't you? And then you plopped your useless ass down on your torn and duct-taped vinyl couch that you took from a dumpster and totally forgot about the sleet falling outside, filling up your driver's seat with ice because you were too stupid to cover it and too lazy to take your car to have the damn window fixed. 'Cause you're a winner, Bubba. Your life is awesome.

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