An Environmental Treatise

Warning: The following blog post contains excessive use of foul language. Proceed with caution.
RATED: "R" for Retard.

If one more luxury fossil-fuel burner-driving, pin-dicked Forest Hill cocksucker honks incessantly or makes obscene gestures or comments to me while I am legally waiting in the middle of a fucking goddamn intersection to turn left on my environmentally-friendly fucking bicycle, I am going to:

• Leap from my hybrid onto said cocksucker's windshield.
• One-fist punch a hole in said windshield and in one motion rip the keys from the ignition, jamming them in his motherfucking mocha-choka-latte, country clubbing, pasty white thigh.
• Pull the vehicle to a stop as he screams and writhes in pain and his own urine.
• Pull the asshole from his polluting penis substitute by his Blackberry.
• Force him to his knees and duct tape his mouth around the tailpipe.
• Put the hammer to the metal and leave him to choke on his own toxic fumes.

Motherfucker goddamn cock shit!!!

Thanks. I feel a lot better now.