Dudes on the damn trains make me so gahdamn sick.
If I was nice enough to let you sit in that narrow ass space between me and the chick that smelled like she roasts bloody tampons for a living, the least you could do is not sit with your ignorant ass legs wide the fuck open like you’re waiting on a pitch.
I can’t stand you muhfuckas and I hope you strain a testicle and it causes a stifled orgasm for the rest of your natural life.
Offense 1a: Stopping your raggedy ass right in front of the turnstile to look for your MetroCard. Why the fuck did you put it in the bottom of that suitcase anydamnway? You knew it wasn’t free. Hell, them muhfuckas went up, let alone free.
Offense 1b: Swiping your card and stopping immediately on the other side of the turnstile. Dammit, you ain’t the only one riding the trains today. GetchoMuhfuckinAssOutTheWay!
Punishment: Pee on yourself a little bit in public.
Offense 2: Walking your slow ass in the middle of the sidewalk/steps and acting like you don’t hear people excusing themselves. You knew goodnhellwell you couldn’t walk in them damn shoes when you put’em on. GetchoMuhfuckinAssSomeDr.Scholls!
Punishment: Walk across 12 feet of burning hot lacefronts barefoot.
Offense 3: Pushing your way on the train to grab that little piece of a seat between people only to get off at the next stop. Gotcho wide-hippeded ass all on my thighs and shit. I couldn’t even get up fast enough. Felt like I was paralyzed DOWN.
Punishment: Solitary confinement with headphones locked and secured to the ears whilst listening to Trey Songz and Keri Hilson live duets for 12 hours.
Offense 4: Waking me up on the train to give me one of those “Jesus Comin’ Back Soon” pamphlets and cursing at me because I sat it on the seat next to me.
Punishment: Become a Baptist and get dipped in elephant piss at your baptismal.