Whoop that trick...

There is a very long list of people that would benefit from a nice, solid, movie-style backhand across the goddamn skull. You know, one of those shots that starts with your feet planted firmly side by side, your right hand down by your left hip as you bend your knees slightly when your body rotates to the left and then, in a blur of violence, you bring that hand up and across your body? You'll know you did it right if you get up on your tippy-toes. Also, your hand should sting deliciously.

Normally, I abhor violence, but this damn economic turmoil and global warming has got my head in a fit.

Ok, get this... Two teenage white girls, walking out of Target the other day, most likely to daddy's S-Class. I assume they're talking about Lindsay Lohan or mojitos or getting finger banged by some random douche nozzle. As they walk past me, I see one of them point to a handicapped parking space and sigh, "Oh my God, look at the size of that handicapped joint, girl!"

I looked at her for a second, threw some gang signs and shouted, "That crippled space is OFF THE CHAIN, YO!" ...and then I went up and cracked the bitch upside her head.

Okay, I only did that in my mind, but you tell me that there's a court in the world that would've convicted me.

Perky breasts are proof of evolution, because without them, the teenage girl would've been killed off long ago. Goddamned natural selection is crazy like that.

-THE END-