Yesterday, my glorious nation celebrated 148 years of Confederacy. It was a gorgeous day, and in the evening, thousands of my fellow Canadians of all colours and creeds from all walks of life gathered in the river valley under a full coppery moon to watch the fireworks. It was an impressive display and from our vantage point high above the crowd on the balcony of the Fragrant Missus's office, everyone seemed to be having a really good time.
But you know that this was only an illusion, because some douchebag will always drop a turd in the punch bowl and ruin it for someone else. To whit...
The Fragrant Missus, Stone Knight and I lingered for awhile, waiting for the crowds and the traffic to disperse. When we judged we could navigate the streets without much delay, we got in the car and headed home. Unfortunately, we only got as far as the corner when douchebaggery struck!
I pulled up to the corner and signaled to turn right. I checked for pedestrians and saw, shambling in our direction, an example of the Common Drunken Asshole (ebrius anus vulgaris), at large in his native habitat. I could clearly see he was going to ask us for money, which is what this species usually wants, but this one was giving off a menacing air. So, although it was a very warm evening, I put up the windows and hunkered down behind the steering wheel as if the city street had suddenly become an African Safari Park.
Through the closed window, I indicated to ebrius anus v. that he should move along. I was assertive, but not yet hostile. Sexual activity with himself in another location was not yet suggested. However, ebrius anus was not open to dialogue and in a fit of pique, he smashed his fist onto the hood of my car, yelling incoherently. At this point, I ran out of patience; it was the end of a long, hot, busy day and I was tired and sweaty and just wanted to go home and not have my evening hijacked by some fucking cumbubble with nothing better to do than assault me and my vehicle over the issue of loose change.
I raised my voice and used some very assertive language with very specific instructions attached and put the car in gear, intending to go past him towards home. Ebrius anus, however, threw himself on the pavement in front of my tires, yelling, "Call the cops, I've been hit! Call the cops!"
The Fragrant Missus reached over from the passenger seat and began to honk the horn repeatedly. This drew the attention, not only of numerous bystanders (who did fuck all, I might add; thanks, dickbags) but also two cops on bikes. By now I was in a thunderous mood because I thought the cops would want a statement from me, thereby delaying my trip home. But no; they picked ebrius anus up off the road and and waved us on.
A little further on, we saw yet another display of douchebaggery in the form of two young males of the variety Angry Dick Bags (irratus penis sacculos). These surly cocksuckers vented their spleen by throwing a full, unopened can of soda at the garbage can, thus spraying pop friggin' everywhere, and then proceeding to kick the shit out of said garbage can. I suppose, relatively speaking, this was a benign form of disobedience in that the only victim here was the trash receptacle. I mean, it could have been another bystander. But I still rolled my eyes and wished they were wearing shock collars on their testicles to which I had the remote control.
I am hoping over the next few days to blog again about some habitual, public douchebaggery I have witnessed in people whenever they congregate in any numbers. Which is why I hate crowds and people.
But you know that this was only an illusion, because some douchebag will always drop a turd in the punch bowl and ruin it for someone else. To whit...
The Fragrant Missus, Stone Knight and I lingered for awhile, waiting for the crowds and the traffic to disperse. When we judged we could navigate the streets without much delay, we got in the car and headed home. Unfortunately, we only got as far as the corner when douchebaggery struck!
I pulled up to the corner and signaled to turn right. I checked for pedestrians and saw, shambling in our direction, an example of the Common Drunken Asshole (ebrius anus vulgaris), at large in his native habitat. I could clearly see he was going to ask us for money, which is what this species usually wants, but this one was giving off a menacing air. So, although it was a very warm evening, I put up the windows and hunkered down behind the steering wheel as if the city street had suddenly become an African Safari Park.
Through the closed window, I indicated to ebrius anus v. that he should move along. I was assertive, but not yet hostile. Sexual activity with himself in another location was not yet suggested. However, ebrius anus was not open to dialogue and in a fit of pique, he smashed his fist onto the hood of my car, yelling incoherently. At this point, I ran out of patience; it was the end of a long, hot, busy day and I was tired and sweaty and just wanted to go home and not have my evening hijacked by some fucking cumbubble with nothing better to do than assault me and my vehicle over the issue of loose change.
I raised my voice and used some very assertive language with very specific instructions attached and put the car in gear, intending to go past him towards home. Ebrius anus, however, threw himself on the pavement in front of my tires, yelling, "Call the cops, I've been hit! Call the cops!"
The Fragrant Missus reached over from the passenger seat and began to honk the horn repeatedly. This drew the attention, not only of numerous bystanders (who did fuck all, I might add; thanks, dickbags) but also two cops on bikes. By now I was in a thunderous mood because I thought the cops would want a statement from me, thereby delaying my trip home. But no; they picked ebrius anus up off the road and and waved us on.
A little further on, we saw yet another display of douchebaggery in the form of two young males of the variety Angry Dick Bags (irratus penis sacculos). These surly cocksuckers vented their spleen by throwing a full, unopened can of soda at the garbage can, thus spraying pop friggin' everywhere, and then proceeding to kick the shit out of said garbage can. I suppose, relatively speaking, this was a benign form of disobedience in that the only victim here was the trash receptacle. I mean, it could have been another bystander. But I still rolled my eyes and wished they were wearing shock collars on their testicles to which I had the remote control.
I am hoping over the next few days to blog again about some habitual, public douchebaggery I have witnessed in people whenever they congregate in any numbers. Which is why I hate crowds and people.
No comments:
Post a Comment