"Look twice, motorcycles are EVERYWHERE" wax the bumperstickers...
My missed connection is with back tires of the dipwads with 150 mph dinky bits of manhood who plow their meagre sandwich-shop-trash-collection-take-home pay into absurd two-wheeled testaments to stupidity. A two foot opening in traffic is an invitation to swerve suddenly and drop the hammer? A traffic jam is tailor made for riding up the center line, every once in awhile bumping a mirror? And you have the nerve to give ME the finger?
I'm dying to reach out when a pack of you lobotomized testosterone tubes is passing me and dole out the biggest wedgies of your young, misspent lives. It'd be so easy; your sorry asses are always flopping out as you hunch over those crotch rockets, trying to connect every fibre of your meatloafy angry boy bodies with your financed-to-the-hilt-self-esteeem replacements.
Aggh, I hate you all with a passion normally reserved for crows that crap on your newly washed car and those Russians who club baby seals.
I pray you all meet up one day for a gang race on I-93., ratchet those day-glo cycles up to 200mph, hit a rock, fly off the Tobin bridge, hit one of those LNG natural gas tankers on the way down and burst into a 2 megaton celebration of the end of your miserably insignificant contributions to our planetoid.
Sweet.
P.S. You Harley Davidson jarheads I'm saving for another day. OOh, a crappy mis-timed engine makes me feel so bold, so bad, and so rebellious... You're just brainless sheep in laughably moronic leather. You revel in my hate of you but I laugh at your tax returns.