Apologies for not having a rant last week, I will take personal responsibility for being one of the inconsiderate motherf*ckers I'm writing about this week (actually no, I don't think I'm that bad). I was out of town and didn't get around to writing one. Since I foresee my weekends being busier in the future, I'm now moving my weekly "What's YOUR Deal?!?" rants to Fridays. This week's rant is partially inspired by Shannon. SHOUT OUT TO SHANNON! Enjoy!
Dear Inconsiderate Motherf*cker,
Who the hell do you think you are? What makes you so special and the rest of us so inferior to your delusional greatness? Why, Little Miss Thang must you carry around your little dog in a purse at the store? What part of Service Animals Only do you not understand? I love my cat, Milo, but do you see me taking him everywhere I go? I mean, I get it, I travel with Milo when I go on long trips because I can't bear to be without him for a week or so and it's cheaper than boarding him for that long. I've taken Milo to the pet store so he could try on holiday collars. But I am not taking some little dog in a purse to the grocery store to run errands. Does little Fifi REALLY need to be helping you pick out vegetables? No. Then that begs this question: Do you care so little for your pet that you just consider him or her a fashion accessory? Oh I hope not! I hope little Fifi never clashes with your eyeliner. Poor thing. You're one inconsiderate motherf*cker!
And Mr. Dumbf*ck in your little car taking up the highway, if your little car doesn't go 70+ miles per hour... GET OFF THE HIGHWAY! If your car can't maintain highway speeds going up a hill... GET OUT OF THE LEFT LANE! And allow me to lower my English language skills to help you understand: This ain't NASCAR, ya'll. This ain't no race and there ain't no checkered flag. As for the rest of my readers who understand English, if I'm trying to pass you, it's probably because you're going SLOWER than me. I'm in a Jeep... I don't go very fast... but when I do, I like to keep doing the same speed that I set my cruise control to. If I'm not accelerating and I'm going faster than you... LET ME PASS YOU! You're ain't Dale Earnhardt and I can't give a rat's ass about your jolly jalopy accelerating only when you see me trying to pass you only for you to go slow again when I'm behind you. Thank you Mr. Dumbf*ck, for being a waste of space on this planet.
And oh, I can't forget about you, Mr. Fatf*ck! Yes, the fat f*ck who has probably never partaken in an athletic event but yet makes himself feel better by obnoxious heckling. These are the same fat f*cks that heckle at Pee-Wee football, Little League games, and high school games. I have no qualms about people that heckle the multi-million dollar athletes that are paid absurdly to play a game, as long as the heckling is actually funny and appropriate. However, heckling isn't funny just because you're loud and fat. So shut the f*ck up, Mr. Fatf*ck.
So please, all you inconsiderate motherf*ckers out there take heed and stop.
Thank you.
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