Hey Chief, How Ya Been? Still Driving That Symbol of Impotence?

04.01.09 9 years ago 46 Comments

Say, buddy!  Long time, no see.  Last time I saw you it was — what?  The football playoffs?  Funny how we only bump into each other during major sporting events.  And here you are, still driving a vehicle made for limp-wristed little bitches.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that.  A truck like that is perfect for a bleeding gash like you.

I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t be so dismissive.  Don’t cry.  You gonna cry?  Gonna cry, little girl?  No?

You sure?

Anyway, I’m over that whole truck-wars thing.  I hardly have the time to be condescending about how weak you are for buying a truck that provides you simple comforts and additional safety features.  I’m more focused on my new SUV-wagon crossover.  Check it out:

That’s right, I’m a family man now.  I’ve got a softer side.  A softer side that wears v-neck sweaters.  A softer side that covers but doesn’t quite conceal the hard side of my well-muscled neck and shoulders.  Heck, you and I might even get along!  If you didn’t piss your pants so much.

One thing hasn’t changed, though: my Chevrolet product totally kicks ass, and your faggoty excuse for transportation is barely worth my scorn.

Seriously?  The fucking Honda Pilot?  Why don’t you just buy a station wagon, for Christ’s sake?  And then go suck some anonymous truck stop cock, because that’s clearly what you really want to do.

Frankly, I was shocked to learn you got the Pilot.  A pussy little V-6 truck with shitty gas mileage, man-step, and heated steering wheel?  Sure.  That’s you.  But a family vehicle?  No way.  I never figured you for the family type.

Of course, you realize those kids are mine, right?  Hey, your wife needed someone with a big, hard, virile dick.  And I wasn’t about to wear a condom.  Condoms are for queers like you.  If you could get an erection.  But thanks for raising the little bastards.  Saves me a ton of trouble, even if you’re giving them inadequate childhoods by driving them around in a crossover that has entirely enough trunk space but not as much as the new CHEVY TRAVERSE.

Y’know, I would’ve been a better dad to my kids that you raised if I hadn’t been so busy doing manly shit, like playing pro football and filling sand bags and doing construction work and nailing your wife.  I’m great with kids.  Aren’t I, little girl?

Little Girl: I’m not a little girl.  I’m a BIG girl!

Howie: SHUT UP SLUT!  You’re lucky your mom fucks as well as she does, otherwise your ugly ginger mug would be learning to turn tricks in the discard pile of central casting.

Ugh, this job was easier when it was all about how much of a pussy you are.

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