Live strong, Die fast

Look out everyone! The parade of arrogance and closeted homosexuality is waving its revolting man ass in front of my vehicle! What should I do?! The grand spectrum of emotions is overwhelming. Should I throw up at the site of 50 grown men wearing day glow spandex that would even nauseate Milly Vanilly in this day and age? Don’t do it, don’t let them win by soiling your upholstery. I know, step on the gas and extinguish their miserable existence. Do it!? Don’t do it!? Do it?! Don’t do it!? Fuck! I don’t want to go to prison! Aaaahhh!!!! FUCK!!! I am stuck trying to pass these cock drinkers and they are slowing me and every other poor bastard behind me from getting to happy hour before it ends! I fucking hate them! My dollar wells and free pool will now cost full price and all of the truly degenerate cheap whores that would have actually let me take them home are now going home by themselves to hit their stash of plastic bottled Gordon’s vodka half pints because it is more cost effective and they know that no one in their right mind is going to buy them a full priced drink when they could have received the same shitty blow job for half the cost 20 minutes ago. Fuck you Lance Armstrong for making these lemmings believe that they are participating in something manly or even respectable. Fuck you Lance Armstrong for helping these fucks mask their desire to watch their friend’s sweaty ass bounce rhythmically in front of their cock hungry eyes for miles on end. Fuck you Lance Armstrong for helping these dildos fulfill their aspirations to dress in woman’s clothing and shave their legs by making these people think that riding a bike down the street is a real sport. I hate to break it to you turd anglers…but I learned how to ride a bike when I was five years old and it never made me think I should make a spectacle of myself by plastering everything I wear with a corporate logo (and no, you are not sponsored so don’t bullshit me!) and at no point did I pretend that I was a car so that I could stoke my own ego and make everyone else have to contemplate murder every time they passed me. Fuck you! Please do me favor, come out of the closet, get off of the road and drop your ridiculous hobby. Then I can redeem some respect for your life and buy you a drink, even if it means I have to meet you at the Blue Flame or the Mud Miner’s Saloon.