22 September, 2008

Dear White Trash Man

Dear White Trash Man,

You are crazy. Thank you for trying to kill me and my family last night. I meant you no harm when I tried to pass you at the end of the 2 lane zone by Albertsons. I was just frustrated that you drifted into my lane with no blinker, going about 10mph slower than the 40mph I was going as I shot through the intersection. Maybe I upset you with the high beam flash and horn honk. I'm sorry, I was trying to warn you that you are a stupid piece of white trash who doesn't know how to drive. Maybe I shouldn't pass judgment so quickly. Maybe the 2 Alaskan Huskies squeezed into your extended cab, 1980's Nissan pickup obstructed your view. Or maybe you are just a bad person. Actually I know you are a bad person. You confirmed it to me when you hit your breaks after I high beamed you and tried to pass you in the right lane. You confirmed it to me because you swerved into my lane and I had to slam on my breaks, nearly skidding into you. Luckily I play lots of driving games on my XBOX 360 because when we both skidded to a stop, you halfway sideways from trying to cut me off, I had to launch around you when you lept from the cab of your truck to scream at me and throw your hands up like a WCW wrestler. You are white trash. Your cut off sleeved red t-shirt was really cute though. It made you look even more white trash than you even probably are. I sincerely apologize for missing you as I put all 230hp of my Buick Regal Custom to the pavement trying to get away from your crazy white trashedness. No really, I wish I had hit you. I wish I had clipped your door and knocked you down. Then maybe you would have chased me as I hit 60mph in a 35 trying to get away from you. People think you're crazy. Not just me. Who gets out of their car in the middle of 1600 N. and throws their arms up while traffic wizzes by? You are a very bad man. You're lucky I was in a good mood because rather than being pissed, I was as scared as my wife. We were going to call the police on you, but we figured looking like and idiot and being white trash was punishment enough. It must be hard to be made fun of and judged at every turn for being a stupid, ugly piece of white trash that no one respects.
But let's let be bygones be bygones. The only thing I wish for you is that you stumble and fall all the way to the bottom most part of hell, but the fall doesn't quite kill you. You lay there at Satan's feet, wriggling and squirming and whining in excruciating pain begging for one of the many people pointing and laughing to come help you. You have compound fractures in every major bone and the sharp ends of your fractured femurs are poking in your spleen every time you breath. Satan looks at you and smiles as he turns up the thermostat, burning you slowly, slowly as you lay on the ground. Its a slow, dry burn that makes you flesh dry out before it starts to melt or catch fire.
And just in case that isn't enough, I hope all of your children's teeth rot out because you don't know what toothbrush is. I hope their teeth ache with rotten, needle-piercing pain every time they drink the orange soda that your ugly, dirty, white trash wife serves with your microwaved dinners and Manwich sloppy-joe lunches. I also hope you are all the victims of a train crash as you probably live inches from the tracks. I hope a fuel tanker gets stuck on the rail road crossing next to your house and when the Union Pacific comes through town, it doesn't slow down. Instead it speeds up and hunkers down for the most important train accident in history. This accident sends a flaming fuel tanker into your 3 bedroom shack that thankfully houses every generation of your family, including blood relatives and otherwise. Yes, even those "illegitimate" children you love to yell at. When the flaming tanker hits, your entire home explodes, ending the pain that your neighborhood has to endure because you live there and bring their housing prices down. The pain that we all feel having to watch you on Jerry Springer and Maury ends. The pain of having to stand behind your cellulite pocked, white trash wife's butt in the line at the grocery store goes away. The pain of smelling your B.O. in the elevator on the rare times you make it into civilization ends. The pain of having to drive behind you and watch you bust out World Wrestling moves in the middle of the street as I squeal my tires around you ends. It all ends. You end.
Burn in hell my friend. Thanks for almost killing my family last night.

with belated affection,
Logan Tanner


Anonymous said...

Dark. I likey. I'm glad that you're OK.

Lauren said...

Holy crap Logan. I take it you are feeling a bit of anger and dislike towards the man who cut you off last night. I'll pray for your soul. Just kidding, but you do have quite the caliginous imagination.

Two Little Mittons said...

Wow, I'm glad you told us how you really feel. That was pretty awesome. I'm glad someone else gets angry like I do. You can just express it so much better and with humor too!

Jake said...

I always pass people on the right there.

heidi said...

Diatribe much?

Good thing you didn't stop! I know someone who once punched a tow truck driver. Though gratifying, it didn't turn out well for the puncher!

McKenna said...

Now that, was hilarious. You hit every white trash stereo type right on the head. I can really see that you are taking advantage of your creative writing classes. Way to go without using even one swear word.

Glad you are ok, I mean really, if you didn't live that one, how was I going to get a good laugh today?

jen said...

Sorry, I just read this for the first time tonight (I know, shocking that I haven't been blogstalking this week). I am totally with you because people in Utah all drive like a-holes and then act all pissed when you go by them. I am glad you are alive, a WT person usually has a gun rack in their truck.

Tiffarito said...

all I read of this post was burn in hell....so thanks man. I didnt read anything else and this is what I am left with. really thanks

Anonymous said...