The Latest And Greatest Dipshits


Here you have your crotch rocket toting, steroid using (probably with no results) jackass who's sporting the mid - 90's trendy tribal arm band tattoo with a stout and cocky stature. These guys eat more dick than n'sync and the backstreet boys put together. You'll know when you meet one of these dirt bags because they're constantly talking about how important they are in a psychological attempt to convince themselves that they have a penis. I've never seen biker boyz but the rating should probably be "Just as terrible as You Got Served" (while they own both movies i'm sure). These guys are the only group of people credited for buying the new limp bizcut album.

Hear we see one of our friends failing at life as usual, just seems lately these assholes have been multiplying like gremlins... There everywhere! Not only do I want to bash my head in with a hammer when hearing these assholes talk, but seeing groups of these idiots parked outside of bars it looks like a friggin lids convention. EVERYWHERE you look some assholes got his hat tilted in every terrible way imaginable to be cute or something. Well from now on if you wear a tilted hat to a bar your officially a posing prissy asshole who needs hit in the dick to check current inventory down there. If you see these Coat Hanger Survivor's (abortion method) take a picture of any of them you see and i'll be sure to post them in a separate bleeding vagina link, i'll just keep adding to that link (try and email with a brief description). It's a shame it's not trendy to walk around and have gun battles at random, shit i'd be a happy man.



If you can't tell by now i'm a bit angry, working two jobs (one at GLDC data center in operations & other at GNC) I tend to have a shorter fuse with people. And what are the only "things" (and I do refer to them as things) to anger me more than Fred Durst or our crotch rocket buddies? The miserable shaking 80 year old hags that come into GNC daily scowling about herbs we don't have that might prolong their wretched existence long enough to view Bob Barker one more time on the Price Is Right. I can literally feel my head exploding when seeing the one eye flickering limping mess dragging itself up to my store waiting to ask me rudely for some ginger root or something to help them not smell like dogshit.... ugh enough of old people.

Not to get off of my point but now that I feel a little better:


For all you crotch rocket jocks out there the next time you go out for a ride and rev up your engine 20 times upon ignition and 20 more at a stop sign, just ask yourself before speeding off: Who are you trying to impress? me, the broad next to me? or your insecure self? Because your failing terribly at the first two.

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