Dear Mr/Mrs/Ms Fucktard who parked too close to my car. Just how the fuck am I supposed to get in it without either:
1) shrinking like Santa Claus (impossible)
2) employing Harry Potter and have him turn me into smoke..or a mouse,*
*sorry but if I get one chance with Harry Potter, it ain’t gonna be this stupid ass stunt. I would have him give me [get your mind out of the gutter..just for a sec babe] my idea of the perfect body.
2) denting your car (not a horrible option but would involve denting my door as well so..no)
3) crawling inside the passenger side, hiking my fat ass over the center console/arm rest and shimmying under the steering wheel (winner winner chicken dinner).
This infuriates me so bad, I get an anxiety attack and I actually have to talk myself down from keying the side of their car, kicking in the quarter panels or hiding somewhere close till they show back up, then jumping out and going witchshit crazy on their ass. Just get over it Sunny, no big woop, think happy thoughts…like them getting rabies or a pilonidal cyst or…or a squirrel crawling into their vent system only to be discovered 5 days later.
And yes, my rage continues onto the road but I’m much better than I used to be.
