Hey angry redneck dude that snapped when I merged from the ‘left turn only’ lane, The sermon you delivered after chasing me down and blocking me in at the bank was a waste of your time. Was it not apparent from my response to your barely decipherable country fuck tongue lashing that I don’t give a rats ass what you think of my driving? When you jumped out of the monster truck, clad in tight ass wranglers and a wifebeater, then started ‘a-hollerin’, all I could think of is that you need to do something with that mullet and lose the “Bodacious” belt buckle.

Hoss, know this, traffic infractions don’t enrage emotionally balanced people. What the fuck happens when your kid knocks over your spitoon?

Fuck dude, next time you decide to give someone a piece of your mind, remember, you don’t have much to spare….then get, get back in you rig, speed back to your trailer, crack a brewski, then fuck your fat wife when she gets home from Wal-Mart. And remember to brush your tooth.

Prius Driving Soccer Mom