the bird shit police

every time I park across the street from my buildink under the street lamp, my yachna neighbor screams (sight unseen)

BACK UP THREE FEET. THRRREEEEE FEET. THREE FEET! BACK. BACK. BAAAACK! GAAAAAAAAAHD.

it would be a nice gesture if he said, you might want to back up a little. but, this is a demand, bordering harassment. I could be on the phone or in the middle of a conversation with a passenger. fuck. juice and I could be exiting the car and he's hockin. thanks for your concern, but what if I like bird shit? what if I'm too cheap to spring for a paint job or I'm going for an organic white with a green hue?! back-the-fuck-off, bitch.



today, after berating my ignorant parking job, he wailed, when are you going to get that damn sunroof fixed?! I wanted to scream, suck my ovaries, pig fuck. why is my sunroof his business? it's my car and my choice. I happen to like the slide factor. so it doesn't close all the way. if I have a problem with it, don't I have the right to make that decision for myself?! what am I? retarded.



does anyone appreciate my plight?!



Comments

Writeprocrastinator said…
Tell him what people tell me or I tell people when the comments get out of hand, "I already have a father, thank you very much."
12:22 AM
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