Kiss my ass
Kiss my ass

The scenario:  Dumbass wants in  on a turn lane, without the usual courtesies like signaling or merging at the end of the line.  No, we are all supposed to get out of the way so he can get in where he chooses, instead of where conditions dictate. So, he forces his way in behind me into a space a couple sizes too small so his ass hangs over into the next lane.

So far, not my problem.  Except it is, because the dude is concerned about  his ass that he creeps into my car.  He literally pushes my car trying to cure his mistake.  Thanks asshole.

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(Yes, Lurlene was with me.  No, she was not  hitting him with the pressed ham before this happened)

The door edge guards don’t actually help

The scenario:  Dumbass can’t pick a lane.  (Duh ^^^).  Except for the one I am in.  He likes that in all four dimensions.  Missed me by that |<—————->| much.

(Yes, Lurlene was with me.  No, she was not  hitting him with the pressed ham before this happened)

Chevy Cobalt AZ 899-VLW

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Author: Raoul Duke

When I came to, the general back-alley ambiance of the suite was so rotten, so incredibly foul. How long had I been lying there? All these signs of violence. What had happened? There was evidence in this room of excessive consumption of almost every type of drug known to civilized man since 1544 AD. What kind of addict would need all these coconut husks and crushed honeydew rinds? Would the presence of junkies account for all these uneaten french fries? These puddles of glazed ketchup on the bureau? Maybe so. But then why all this booze? And these crude pornographic photos smeared with mustard that had dried to a hard yellow crust? These were not the hoofprints of your average God-fearing junkie. It was too savage. Too aggressive.

1 thought on “Assholes”

  1. Had I known they were going to have me shakin’ for hours after..I would have hit them with more that a pressed f***kin’ ham!

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