We like to provide a very up-to-date/real-time vibe here at IWRI. Therefore I’m technically live-blogging from the front seat of my father’s ride whilst some teenage asshole is making our trip to the Poughkeepsie train station an interesting one.

I noticed his gray-primed poopbox turning onto 9W off of Route 32 on the outskirts of Kingston, coasting parallel to some red nightmare of a vessel (one of those late-eighties hand-me-down rides donated by Grandma or a senile aunt) packed choc-full of other shitbirds I surmised are his friends, cackling like nitwits and giving all of the cars (including ours) behind them the finger, slowing down to a snail’s pace with the sole purpose of slowing down traffic.

Sensing bad news, the hippie van and sports car in front of us slow down as the motorcade of future senators picks up to normal speed. My father takes the vigilante “I’ll get this young punk” approach and rides homeboy’s (definitely has the “white kid’s upset because he grew up in upstate New York instead of Compton” look) coat-tails until the kitty cat gets cute and taps his breaks, which was inevitable given our position. Meanwhile, the mongoloids in Big Red have slowed down to ride parallel alongside of us. Giving the finger isn’t funny guys, unless you’re eight and it’s your first communion picture in front of the altar.

Long story short, I call the cops and scream “Police!” out of the window so the pilots of Wanker Mobile and Crotch Pod know who I’m on the phone with. At that point they both get back up to normal speed, and pull off the road at the gas station up the way.

The point of this is that those tits are probably still driving around right now wreaking havoc and casting a negative image of youth in the eyes of old cougars and lions all over town. IWRI needs to happen. We need to educate the youngins and turn dickweeds like this into rumors of a time passed.

Oh, his license plate is DYT-5035. Shit gray Fast and the Fugliest looking jam. $100 for a funny picture. Wink.

-M