:: Of Alcohol and Humans ::

Drunk people! You know, the type of asshole who always has to get shitfaced on the weekend and go staggering around, patting you on the back like you're his best friend, when all you really want him to do is get in his car and drive home recklessly.

I'm sick and tired of some incoherent asshole who smells like a case of malt liquor all of a sudden talking about the philosophy of life while trying to pick up some woman at a bar. Nice. And what's worse, those fucking dolts who go around and actually tell you how fucked up they got the night before; like they deserve some type of award for falling face first into a patch of tomatoes in your backyard at four AM in the morning.

And don't forget, (in mocking voice) "friends don't let friends drive drunk." Screw that! As far as I'm concerned, give 'em the keys rev up the engine, and let 'em go sailing home with a bottle of taquila in their lap. One of three things will happen.

1: The cops will pull them over and end up having to beat the shit out of them, just because this fucker is in a drunken rage and refuses to turn off Hoobastank’s "The Reason!".

Number 2: They'll zip zap-ing on the Federal Highway mimicing Jay Chou in his AE86 (Initial D...)@ four AM waiting to be either killed or paralyzed. Cruel, you say? Well, so is inflicting your drunken stupidity on the rest of the world, so be ready to pay the consequences. Welcome to the road-kill statistic... Asshole.

Scenario number 3, my least favorite: They make it home okay and pass out on the lawn with their engine running, while the radio is blasting some dumbass metal song from the mid-80's that no one wants to hear anymore. But at least it gives 'em a chance to try again next week.

Get out of our fucking lives, your moronic assholes. Your existence is useless, and you're dragging down the collective intelligence of humanity. (mocking voice) "Don't like what I have to say?" (mocking voice) "Here's the keys and a bottle of Crack Daniels. I'll see you tomorrow. But hopefully not."