Or quit or whatever other bullshit…
“Well I quit my job today. Had to give my dipshit boss a ride to the Saab dealership because his Saab’s vulva collapsed and I take a turn real hard along the way (because fuck physics) and there was some tinkling sound and he’s like, “What’s all that noise?” and I was like “Probably just some beer bottles” and then he was all like, “Why do you have beer bottles on the floor of your car?” So I slammed on the brakes, undid his door’s child lock and asked him to get out. At first he thought maybe I was joking but once I screamed it like ten times and starting coughing a bunch he did in fact get out. “Why do I have beer bottles on the floor of my car?” Next he was probably gonna ask me why I don’t alphabetize my Blue-Rays. BECAUSE I DON’T GIVE A FUCK. That’s why. Cleaning up after your awesomeness is like if they cleaned up after a war instead of leaving all those burnt up antiques everywhere for the Armenians to steal. Know what I mean?”
FUCKING VANITY PLATES RULE!!!!!!
A specialty of his, so long as it makes no sense… This is one I forgot to post from long ago:
“I was just standing behind my car in a random parking lot, talking on the phone wearing my tank top exposing my tats and some kick ass red shorts I bought SIX YEARS BEFORE COLORS WERE COOL, when a beautiful woman stopped dead in her tracks upon gazing at me. “My my…” she thought to herself. “Sometimes you see a man that reminds you there’s a helluva lot more out there in the World. Some magical place where ALL people are awesome, and NO ONE gives a shit. He must be a visitor from that fair land. Look at the car he’s chosen– a Volvo… safe so as to protect his perfect alien body… but Turbo, in case he needs to make a quick escape. And blue? Who’d have the gaul??? And he’s smoking, even though the Earth doctors told him not to– that he’ll die! What’s that he’s doing now? Throwing up? Our silly food does nothing but displease his space-stomach. I bet he got a coffee at that Coco’s and had a laugh. Simple people, we are. Hot brown liquid is our favorite… Ha! Anyway, back to my husband Jim.”
Special request, don’t tell Jim.
The only way to do it, whether its sports or being a dickhead to women:
“That’s it. I’m done dating women who drive Nissan Maximas. I don’t care if they’re late model or not. Those bitches are crazy 100% of the time. This chick last night had a 2013 with the PREMIUM PACKAGE and that Atlantic Cherry Woodtone Trim, and she WAS STILL CRAZY AS FUCK! Wanted me to take her to The Cheesecake Factory. “Is that what they call the spot where the bottom of your ass meets the top of your thighs?” I asked her. That’s when she lost it. And I’ll tell you what. If a girl can’t take a perfect 10 joke, then I don’t wanna be around her, even if she’s the only girl in the last five years who was willing to do “The Bronson Swirl” with me.”
Pick a temperature, crazy! Either you’re in a bikini or a fur coat. Gosh! Maybe he’s right about women after all.
He sent this photo with the message:
“This guy didn’t buy a Trans-Am to wash it in his driveway like some pussy. He bought it so he could wash it IN YOUR FUCKING FACE, AMERICA!!!!! And PS he doesn’t even have a driveway so fuck you for judging him!”
He has a curious understanding of parking lots.
Provided by the ‘Best Driver in the World’ if you recall this one:
“After a long drunk drive home, go ahead and throw on some classical music while you park to celebrate your arrival. You’ve sped, you’ve screamed, you’ve broken many laws– now it’s time to relax. You see, classical music is not ONLY excellent to fuck to, as the Catholics will have you believe, it’s also great music to dent a car to! And on that note, I’ve decided that my new phrase for fucking a fat chick is “denting a car.” “Man I dented a car pretty hard last night.” “Really, what kind?” “Puerto Rican.” BOOM!”
Gotta love our 51st state.
He sent the below photo and weird statement last night. Your guess is as good as mine…
“Eckie P thought I would never find him again. But he forgot about one thing.”