To the pretentious shit driving a Hummer (which is the vehicular equivalent of shouting I’M A COMPLETE ASS, by the way) who cut this bitch off going 50 mph in a construction zone whilst my ass was driving back from a bitness meeting in West Fuckville (hence my bad mood and burnt nerves)…
…you owe the rest of your day and the condition of your tacky as hell car to soft rock radio.
Because the only thing that came between my baseball bat and your front window was Wilson Philips.
Your tired ass ain’t slick.
This bitch just decided to hold on for one more day, motherfucker.