A few ponderings for the disgusting
little idiot who tried, but
ultimately failed, to break into the car
this afternoon:
1. As a smackhead, you are by
default already the lowest of the low
– paedophiles and serial rapists look
down upon you with disgust, and
your mother probably disowned
you years ago if she hasn’t already
died of shame. But what’s actually
more amusing, is that when it
comes to being a horrible, dislikable,
robbing little cunt (not a particularly
tough task when you put your
mind to it) you failed not once, but
what looks like over thirty-times.
Even your fellow baghead
companions can’t bear to look you
in the eye right now; such is the
extent of your almost super-human
2. The particular method of breaking
into my car you selected is not
particularly complicated or scientific.
Generally speaking, the process of
throwing a brick through a car
window requires very little strength,
and even less brainpower. Yet you
were still lacking in both respects.
Perhaps if your regular heroin intake
hadn’t caused all of the major blood
vessels in your arms to collapse
you may have had more luck, so as
a word of fatherly advice, next time
why not stick your filfthy needle
elswhere? The big toe’s a nice spot,
so I hear. Expert tip: make sure you
get some air in there, it really adds
to the ‘kick’.
3. What really impressed me
though was the way that having
completely and utterly failed in your
attempt to get into my car, you set
to strategically smashing up the
door and side-panel with
aforementioned brick, apparently
just to piss me off. Of course, what
you do not realise is that losing my
‘whopping’ ksh10,000 insurance excess is
absolutely no great shakes to me,
for I am an immensely wealthy
man who opted for doing
something with his years as
opposed to setting up camp as an
utter scumbag and injecting
unknown substances (Clue: HIV is
one of them) into my own body,
whilst laying unconscious, stewing
in a pool of piss, shit, and vomit –
perhaps some of it not even my
own. In fact, it fills me with great
pleasure this evening to know that
my television has a larger surface
area than your entire, makeshift,
shop-doorway home, and has the
added bonus of not smelling of piss,
nor does it contain over 400 unique
traces of human (and fuck it, who
knows, animal?) semen.
And so, in summary, a big fucking
well done to you – you absolute,
100% bona fide little bell-end. I shall
sleep well tonight, in my large,
warm bed, safely in the knowledge
that you only know the first three
letters of the alphabet thanks to your
familiarity with Hepatitis, and that
when the AIDS finally comes a-
knocking, that you will fail to
overcome that just as spectacularly
as you did the 1-inch thick piece of
glass in the passenger window.
Good night – you cunt!


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