Dear Shit-Driving Helmet Haired Lady,
Just because you a) forgot to get in the turning lane or b) didn’t know you needed to get in the turning lane does not mean you get to honk your giant gas guzzler’s horn at me for not mowing down a couple of joggers who clearly had the right of way in the cross walk there. Your incompetence is not my problem. Perhaps you would have crushed the skulls and limbs of those two lovely ladies out working on their fitness like the crazed, self-absorbed maniac you likely are, but I try to avoid vehicular homicide whenever possible.
It was real cute the way you bobbed your head around like your neck was mounted on a spring, opening and closing your fuschia-painted maw, I think, in efforts to mock me. I’m not sure why that was your response to not getting your way, but it was a damn sight to behold. It fucking killed you when I came to a complete stop at that intersection where everyone just blows through after looking both ways. Well, tough shit.
Hope you enjoyed driving the speed limit all the way to work,
Brittney
2 comments ↓
F=MA
Madam, I kees you enthusiastically in thanks for your good deed.
Just think, you shortened that twit’s life by like three days, thanks to the blood-pressure spike. Yay.
You were in Brentioch, weren’t you? Wah-ha.
Thank you again. Score one for the small yet stubborn.
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