Sunday, January 16, 2005

All I Want...Is a Hood-Mounted Death Ray: PART 2

This was an infuriating week.

First, there was the Packers' pathetic attempt at "football". And Bob Slowik still has not been fired.

Then there was the brazen Powerline snub.

Then there was Jim Boyd's editorial in this morning's Strib - using convenient statistics based on cherry-picked facts - advancing the left-wing's latest Kool Aid that Americans are selfish when it comes to foreign aid.

Then, in the same Strib issue, there was the deification of ultra left-wing mouth-breathing douchebag cartoonist Ward Sutton.

But what I experienced yesterday sucked me into a new dimension of rage.

It happened in the parking lot of my local Cub Foods (motto: Brain Death Capitol of the World). I turned into an aisle in the parking lot that appeared to have several good parking spaces. The first space in the aisle was occupied by the "shopping cart corral". An SUV was parked in the second space. In the third space, some fat-assed trailer-trash yutz (F.A.T.T.Y.) was transferring her groceries from her car to the trunk of her Ford Focus.

Just as I was about to turn into the parking spot next to FATTY's, she finished loading her car. She then proceeded to park her shopping cart right IN THE SPACE IN WHICH I WAS ABOUT TO PARK.

YEARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHH!!!!

Pant, pant.

YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!

The cart corral was less than 10 FEET AWAY.

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!

The anger I felt can only be conveyed by a verbatim transcript of my comments during the incident:

LearnedFoot: Uh, what are you doing? WHAT THE F**K ARE YOU DOING??!!! Oh, you are NOT just going to park that cart in an empty space!!! YOU F***ING B***H!!! YOU RUDE, FAT F***ING B***H!!! I want you to die! I WANT YOU TO F***ING DIE!!!!! DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEE YOU FAT F***ING F**K!!!!!!!!!!! F***ING DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Ahem.

Such self-absorption is rarely seen outside a Tina Brown dinner party. Or Garrison Keillor's mirror.

I'm not wound too tight, am I?

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