You Know What I Hate?

I hate when white trash comes into my office to get an address for their brokedown trailer, but throw around attitude like I should bow down to them. For instance, saying "My son is the superintendent", like that is supposed to mean something to me. Lady, do you know who MY dad is? He certainly trumps a lowly rural county's superintendent of schools okay. PS, here is some Seabreeze astrigent for that Exxon Valdez oil spill all over your damn face. Put some of it on a cotton pad and feel the tingle of clean. Now, get to stepping, because you don't want to throw down with this homo.