Hands Off!

Um, I would think it would go without fucking saying, but apparently not. Under no uncertain circumstances should any of you fucknuts touch my Subaru. I mean it, dipshits. Keep your motherfucking hands off my Subaru.

Seriously, guys. Maybe I’m being a little too hostile about this, but there’s nothing more I love in this world than that fucking bee-ay-you-tee of a car, my Subes as I like to call her. There’s nothing I love more than getting into my Subaru, putting in some Maroon 5 and just jamming the fuck out! I want to party in my Subaru until the day I die, and when that day comes you cocksuckers better bury me in this bitch.

I love this car so much that when my girlfriend told me it was time to sell it since I’d had it for 14 years, I told her that I’d rather sell her to the highest bidder on eBay. She was pissed as shit at me for that. I tell you what, though, she respected me for it eventually. She saw that my loyalty runs deep, and I am loyal to nothing like I’m loyal to my Subaru.

I’d commit homicide for her. I would. If Jesus Christ Almighty came down from the sky and said the only way I’d get to keep my sweet Subaru was to murder an innocent man at an ATM, I’d do it. That’s how much I love my Subaru, you shit-tasting dickfaces.

Imagine my surprise then, when I come out of my apartment, headed towards my designated parking space, and what do I see?

Who the fuck thought it was so funny to write “Wash Me ” on my back window? I’ve told you clowns a million times to lay off my goddamn Subaru. But you just couldn’t listen, could you? You couldn’t keep your meddlesome fingers off my sweet ride.

Well, I am beyond pissed, I can tell you that. I’m hurt. I’m actually hurt that no one could respect my wishes and keep their fucking hands off my car. This isn’t a game, folks. This is my Subaru we’re talking about here.

Oh sure, you could say to me “If you love your car so much, why do you let it get so dirty?” And you’d get a big ol’ Texas-sized slap in your mouth if you were so petulant. I will let my car get as damn dirty as I please. I happen to think a nice, thick coat of dust, dirt and mud is attractive on a car.

Yes, I said attractive. And I meant it too. Okay, fine, yes, I’ll admit it. I have been known on occasion to slip my penis into my Subaru’s center console. Late at night, the smell of the cloth interior is so fucking erotic, and after I’ve had a few drinks, I get horny. Who doesn’t?

And when I look at this, I just want to stick “it” in.

I feel like I may have gone a little too far. I feel like maybe I shared a little too much of myself. I hope that you’ll see, though, that this is out of love. It’s out of love that I shared so much of my passion for my Subaru. It’s out of love that I beg you to please not ever touch her again.

Believe me when I say to you now, that if I come to find out you’ve soiled her with your hands again, I will hunt you down, and by God I will tickle the living shit out of you. I will tickle you so hard and so fast that you will relieve yourself of all urine in your bladder. I will tickle you like you’ve never been tickled before.

Hands off!