Kalah Allen

To the yuppies driving a brick-red modern-made sedan: I will eat you alive, bitches, for hitting me, and then driving off. Crossing the street at 9:45 pm at NW 23rd and Raleigh, you ran right into me. Your car is so fucking modern I couldn't hear you hitting me over my conversation with my friend. Didn't anyone teach you to slow into a corner and watch for pedestrians? Motherfuckers. Here I am with someone's car resting on my legs, and you reverse, pull forward, and drive off without saying anything. You think I feel good having three yuppies hit me with their car, scowl, and then fucking run? Bitches. NEVER FUCKING DRIVE IN MY NEIGHBORHOOD EVER AGAIN OR I'LL KILL YOU. And when the petroleum apocalypse comes, me and my friends will find you, and we will run into you with our feet, our bikes, horses, or whatever people use when there's no more gas, over and over and over, until you regret all the time you spent being the living dead as a gas-guzzling bourgeois fuck with an absurd sense of entitlement, hitting and running over people in a residential neighborhood. Eat shit and die, yuppie scum.—Anonymous