When I'm really fucking angry, I get quiet. I know you're used to me rantin, ravin, swearin and hurlin objects, but when I'm this pissed, words can't even come out because they're the ugliest words, thoughts and wanna-be deeds, you can't even imagine my depravity. Well, maybe Lily, Shea and Mimi, but I really don't think you JerseyLil, even if you're a little wild for Clooney.
I'm trying to get to a place where I can once again sit on my porch and inhale my drug of choice without screaming obscenities or fantasizing beheadings and clitorechtomies (not for everyone, just lying sucky ones). I'd remove it with my fucking car and if her hijab got caught in the tire, I guess I'd be draggin a clitless Muslim liar.
The kids would recognize her as the dumb fucking bitch who hit us, but if Officer Retard wanted to show her his badge, she wouldn't even moan, cuz her clit would be mixed with the snow and paint chips she, 'couldn't see.' falling off my car.
Now this isn't about my car, it's old and really old. It's about a bitch who hit us on purpose. She saw us, made eye contact for at least 5 seconds and rammed us. Coincidentally, her fucking friend hit us last week, no fucking shit. And they're our neighbors. This is insurance fraud and possibly a crooked ass cop (same cop, both times). Never have I been able to view cops as my felon until yesterday. So please humor me and sing along to the tune of, "If You're Happy And You Know It,"
If you'll help me drag my neighbor
We'll do 60 in the snow and slip and slide
If you are a fucking liar
You might be under my tire
If you wanna drag my neighbor
Take a ride
If your anger triggers Tourettes
Say, "Fuck you!"
If you want to beat your neighbor black and blue
If the thread you're hangin on
Are prescriptions that you're on
If your hit list is too long
I'll ride with you
If you to take 10 pills a day
So you don't kill
If your life would take a year on Dr. Phil
Lithium is my lifeline
It makes my personality shine
So the only question is
Your car or mine?