Saturday, January 9, 2010

Dear Botox Bimbo,

Your mama should have worn a condom, because she failed spectacularly at raising a functioning human being.

Just because you whored yourself out to some old man so he'd buy you a Hummer doesn't mean you should be behind the wheel. The road is for everyone. I'm sorry all that silicone in your boobs exploded and leaked into your brain, but you still have to follow the rules. That red sign with eight sides means that you have to stop. So does that red light. I don't appreciate nearly being creamed because you didn't learn your colors in kindergarten.

I'm sure that in Idiotville, you are the queen and the most important person around, but in Realityland, that fucking Blackberry stuck to your face just makes you pathetic. People with only one brain cell should use that cell for paying attention to the road. Cackling with the Bimbo Posse means that you don't see the little kid in the crosswalk or the little old lady trying to push her walk through the parking lot.

It's pretty sad when the only hope for world survival depends on your hair bleach leaking up through your crotch to your brain and poisoning you until you can't drive.

Fuck you,

Delilah