I’m a non-confrontational person. Like if I caught you stealing money out of my wallet, I’d probably just text you a week later asking if you’ve seen it. I’m such a Beta in that regard. But I’m a completely different animal when it comes to peoples ineptness to navigate the road. If you are anything less than perfect behind the wheel you can bet I’m going to speed up next to you and mouth “Fuck you” while flipping off your young, impressionable child in the back seat. I never use my horn because it sounds like someone squeezed Pee Wee Herman’s balls. Legit the least intimidating noise. And my intention is to scare the life out of you. You’re probably a fine person, but something about you sucking at such a simple task and your complete aloofness of your own sukiness, makes me want spray paint a cock on your windshield.
That’s why the dude who beat the fuck out of this poor bastard who didn’t stand a chance could very well have been me. We’re made of the same stuff. I bet that dude is a timid accountant whose last fight was on the playground at recess. Wouldn’t be surprised if he hopped back into his car after almost taking a guy’s head off and picked up singing along to his Jack Johnson album.