Dear Dickheads – May 2007
It’s not yet summer, and already it’s happening, people dressing themselves with reckless abandon. Two days of warm weather have inspired large women to go out in public dressed in only Daisy Dukes and bikini tops (and their white trash men to walk around completely shirtless. A great way to show off those white pride tattoos they got in prison.) Now I know some folks can pull this look off quite majestically, but what usually ends up happening is that the whole clothing-to-skin ratio gets skewed for everybody else. This time next week I’ll be in a nice restaurant, and the fucktard seated beside me will be draped in little more than a pink tank-top and flip-flop, an ensemble that will reveal half of his flabby Sammy Hagar chest and his hairy sun-baked shoulders, not to mention his dirty fucking sweaty feet. With the exception of gutter punk who freshly shit in his camouflaged pants, nothing smells worse than muck-covered sandal toes. Why can’t people consider others when they leave the goddamned house? I’m trying to eat, for fuck’s sake. AAaaahhHHhh!
Are you so ashamed of your body that you can’t bear to see others flaunt their shit without embarrassment? Is your cock only 2 inches long? Is that the real issue? Calm the fuck down, Jack. Shoulders and flabby chests won’t hurt you. If anything, it will increase the inconsiderate fuck’s chances of getting skin cancer and leaving the restaurant, and this world, for good. Good point about the flip flops, though. Next time, step on the dude’s foot when you walk by. Do this several times. A couple of cracked toes will teach’em. And gutter punks that shit their pants don’t smell nearly as bad as hobos that set themselves on fire, and extinguish the blaze with piss and gooey dog shit. Now that’s a smell to chase away an appetite.