CXXVII. Douchebag. July 25, 2024

>driving Lyft

>I compose an open letter to the douchebag

>in the black Charger with the neon running lights

>who no doubt spent an awful lot of money installing jet engines on his car

>only to decide that jet engines were not nearly loud and obnoxious enough

>and so enlisted the help of some fucking war criminal

>whose mad-scientist muffler technology got him banned from nearly every Asian country

>and who has probably seen Tokyo Drift 800 times 

>to build him an exhaust system that sounds like Cthulhu fucking a battleship

>with no other purpose but to make the living envy the deaf

>dear sir

>you made your car loud on purpose

>I hate you

>everybody at this redlight hates you

>Vin Diesel hates you

>no one is any moister for what you have done

>no one wishes to be like you

>no one wishes to know you at all

>most of our wishes involve your hilarious humiliation

>we hope you swerve into a cop car and shit yourself

>we hope you rear-end an ice-cream truck and a bunch of clowns jump out and beat your ass

>we hope a bunch of teenage Japanese girls point at you and laugh and you don’t ever know what they’re saying, even when the Youtube video comes out, because the captions are bleeped

>I suggest you find a new, quieter hobby

>if, for example, you tried reading comic books

>you would learn that the Joker and Harley Quinn have never once Backed the Blue

>or you might try watching anime

>because Inuyasha probably ain’t one for Blue-Backing either

>and Monkey D. Luffy has active warrants

>Tamar, have you ever watched the show?

>if your new hobbies teach you to be ashamed of your decals

>and your new focus keeps you from noise-polluting Tallahassee

>this could be interpreted as personal growth

>an evolving of sorts, from douchebag into non-douchebag

>the hero becomes a better man, sort of thing

>but you won’t do it

>so I hate you