Sat outside for lunch today cause it is AWESOME out. Next table over? Three generations of fucking jabronies. Straight up.
Eldest Jabroni: You see that new broad? The Asian?
Mid-life Jabroni: She hot?
Eldest Jabroni: Looks like an Ewok.
Baby Jabroni, monitoring the others for the appropriate response: Uh…ew?
Eldest Jabroni: Ankles like…
And that’s about where I blacked out in an annoyed rage. Motherfucker, I am trying to read my book and work on my rack-sunburn. How about instead of focusing on the sexual merits of the “new broad”s ankles, you should invest in one of the following:
A suit you didn’t steal from the costume dept of Anchor Man.
Some diaper rash cream. For your face. Seriously y’all: rosacea.
Some pop culture. I mean, if you’re going to be a misogynist douchebag in public, the least you can do is keep up with modern lingo.
Oh and be less racist. The Asian? P.S. No one likes your “I’m talking like a black guy” voice. Jackass.
I tapped back into their conversation in time to hear the eldest teach the youngest how to trick cops if they find his fake ID, and then bully the other guy about why he doesn’t want a motorcycle right now. Back off dick, that guy is clearly fucking scared. I know you’re like 5 feet tall, but do you really have to be a walking fucking cliche?