Wednesday, December 15, 2004

Hat's Amore!

I'm kind of proud of that title, so you motherfuckers better appreciate it. You'll see what I'm talking about in a minute.

Yesterday I went out Christmas shopping in an effort to fully celebrate the birth of the one and only true Lord and Saviour Jesus Heccubah Christ. While I was out driving around the consumer's Bermuda Triangle that is Best Buy, Wal-Mart, and Target, I found myself behind a BMW convertible that had a couple in it. This is exactly the kind of couple that I wish would, minutes later after my seeing them, die in a fiery crash. I only saw them from behind, but I could tell just from the attire adorning their upper bodies that they were deserving of the aforementioned horrible death.

They were that couple that you see when you're out that are both wearing khaki shorts, white t-shirts tucked into those shorts, and some sandals with socks. The guy probably has his cell phone clipped on his belt and the woman (and probably the guy as well) has a fannie pack on. And the two bastards are both wearing hats that are the same make and style, but one is green and one is blue. That was this couple. They're the same ones that will both buy and wear the Mickey Mouse sweatshirt for fifty dollars at Disneyland. Goddamn I hate when people wear Mickey Mouse clothing at Disneyland. It's like a woman wearing a maternity dress to her abortion. Okay, that's not a good analogy and it doesn't actually add up, I just like the image of a woman wearing a maternity dress to an abortion clinic carrying a change of clothes in her gym bag.

Back to the two sons of bitches in the BMW. These are the same people who love to hang out at Pottery Barn together and probably have assorted meats delivered to their house. They pretend they know about wines and high society, but in all actuality, they bought a crate of twelve boxes of Sutter Homes White Zinfandel at Costco and call this their wine cellar. The woman puts her hair in a ponytail and pulls that through the hole in the back of the hat. That's got to be the most unattractive look for any woman, but especially this one who wears whore's-red lipstick. The guy has very hairy, white legs (which I know something about) and has no problem with his shorts being uncomfortably short to where if he has to step over something higher than knee height, like a homeless man, you may get a sneak peek at some bottom brain. They absolutely can't stand black people, but if you call them on it, they'll say that they have tons of black friends. This means that one of them works at an office with a black person in it that they accidentally saw at a bar once when they went out with the rest of their white friends. They give to charity, but only so they can tell people that they do to make them seem like they care about other people. They both ran for and won student body positions in their high school. The man has an unhealthy pornography collection and once beat a cheerleader to death in a school bathroom but got off because his dad knows the DA.

Sure I was driving behind these people for about ten seconds, but I know them. And I'm sure you do, too. If you don't know them, you are them.

I respond to reader's questions:
Whore writes, hey kurt. do you not have msn?

Yes? Wait. No. Huh? Yes, I do not have msn. No, I do not have msn. It's impossible for me to answer that question in a way that would mean I do have msn, so, nope. I don't have it.

4 comments:

whore said...

hahahaha.. ok good one.. oh my god.. i cant stop laughing.

Drew said...

If you respond to reader questions, then what about mine. Where the fuck is my Ensure?!

Carl Click said...

So you built up this long description of two people deserving only the most violent of deaths, and then ended it? i was expecting more story, less set-up. You should have lied and said that in the end you saw their faces and they were your parents! what a twist.

BreAnna said...

I'm sorry, but you've got it all wrong, Kurt. I'm sure that you don't wish them a long-lasting death in a fiery crash minutes AFTER seeing them. It would be much more satisfying to witness the whole thing. Then be sure to leave right away so you don't have to answer any prying questions from the cops when they show up and find the bloody mannequin that you like to throw out in front of on-coming traffic leaning up against your car. I know from experience.