The Bakery Is Across The Fucking Street
Right. Dear Sky, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot over? Seriously. Thirty plus days of rain? Are you joking? What good is this doing aside from prohibiting me from keeping my car clean? You fucking dick. Move your rainy ass to Phoenix where it hasn't rained since like early October or some shit.
Dear Guy at 7-11, I don't give a frog's fat ass what piss ant country you are from. I walk into your establishment every morning at 05:17 before I go to PT. I buy a Grape Gatorade and a can of Copenhagen. You card me. I see you at Wal-Mart and it's all, "Hey what's up bro." Why don"t you "What's up bro" me while I am purchasing dip so I don't have to walk back outside and grab my ID prolonging my mouth cancer? Inconsiderate ass.
Dear XM radio, You came as a component of my car. I have a button on my stereo that clearly says, "XM." Thus I will look like an ass if I don't subscribe to your service. You are fucking assholes. I primarily listen to ESPN radio and recently found out that I am paying you good, hard earned money for a service, which is free if I would have just found AM before you. Fuck you.
Dear ESPN radio, When I want to listen at home or at my office I load up on your website and it sucks ass. Shit never loads and then it goes away. Your shit is bush league.
Dear grocery store, I appreciate the fact that you sell pre-made sandwiches more than anyone on the planet. I am disgusted with the fact that your delicious sandwiches are at one end of the store while your potato chips are on the other and the Gatorade is hidden in betwixt the two. This wastes valuable time I could be in gustation heaven.
Dear Cheetos, What happened to your PAWS snack food? We had a good thing going. You made them and I ate them. I thought we were in agreement that it was outstanding. Now you don't make them any longer? Well fuck that. I'll see you in hell Cheetos.
Dear Campbell's Soup, We got no beef. I dig your shit. The metal you forged making it possible to microwave it is genius. You should sell that shit to the military. I'm sure there is some radiation suit you can make with that shit.
Dear Employer, You are a fucking asshole. My bad. I am counting days. It's not all bad. But it's not for me. Not for long at least.
Dear Neighbor, He is your child not your punching bag. Your hands are huge and you use them to knock your kid around. If I lose any more sleep over you and your being of an ass...I will feed your mother one of your kidneys you piece of shit.
Dear Lady I Saw At The Bus Stop Yesterday, If I were half the man I perpetrate to be, we'd be fucking right now.
Dear Guy at 7-11, I don't give a frog's fat ass what piss ant country you are from. I walk into your establishment every morning at 05:17 before I go to PT. I buy a Grape Gatorade and a can of Copenhagen. You card me. I see you at Wal-Mart and it's all, "Hey what's up bro." Why don"t you "What's up bro" me while I am purchasing dip so I don't have to walk back outside and grab my ID prolonging my mouth cancer? Inconsiderate ass.
Dear XM radio, You came as a component of my car. I have a button on my stereo that clearly says, "XM." Thus I will look like an ass if I don't subscribe to your service. You are fucking assholes. I primarily listen to ESPN radio and recently found out that I am paying you good, hard earned money for a service, which is free if I would have just found AM before you. Fuck you.
Dear ESPN radio, When I want to listen at home or at my office I load up on your website and it sucks ass. Shit never loads and then it goes away. Your shit is bush league.
Dear grocery store, I appreciate the fact that you sell pre-made sandwiches more than anyone on the planet. I am disgusted with the fact that your delicious sandwiches are at one end of the store while your potato chips are on the other and the Gatorade is hidden in betwixt the two. This wastes valuable time I could be in gustation heaven.
Dear Cheetos, What happened to your PAWS snack food? We had a good thing going. You made them and I ate them. I thought we were in agreement that it was outstanding. Now you don't make them any longer? Well fuck that. I'll see you in hell Cheetos.
Dear Campbell's Soup, We got no beef. I dig your shit. The metal you forged making it possible to microwave it is genius. You should sell that shit to the military. I'm sure there is some radiation suit you can make with that shit.
Dear Employer, You are a fucking asshole. My bad. I am counting days. It's not all bad. But it's not for me. Not for long at least.
Dear Neighbor, He is your child not your punching bag. Your hands are huge and you use them to knock your kid around. If I lose any more sleep over you and your being of an ass...I will feed your mother one of your kidneys you piece of shit.
Dear Lady I Saw At The Bus Stop Yesterday, If I were half the man I perpetrate to be, we'd be fucking right now.
3 Comments:
gotta love those bus stop girls
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