Dear Mercedes-Benz Driver

(**Warning: Most likely will use the C-word. And no, I don’t mean cookie**)

Dear Cunty Mercedes Driver,

(Oooh, that C word came early huh?)

I literally hate you. You make my blood boil. Why are you such a douchebag? You were driving in the far left lane on the highway (otherwise known to Americans as “the fast lane”) and you are going 65 miles per hour. Now to all your Nancies out there that are going to tell me that’s the speed limit, go suck it. I know it’s the speed limit. But the douchenozzle could go 65 mph in the middle or FAR right lane with all the grannies. Those of us in the far left lane, actually want to get the fuck home!!

Also, Mercedes’ are built to go fast. Just like how hearses are built to carry dead people in caskets. It’s just how it goes. So as far as I’m concerned, you are doing a disservice to the vehicle by only going 65 mph in the far left lane. The dealership should revoke that car, and all other Mercedes owners should shun you publicly. 

Here you are going 65 mph in your new-ish Mercedes-Benz and there is at least a full football length between you and the car in front of you. HOW no one cut you off I will never know. I could be riding someone in front of me and leave like four inches between bumpers and some stupid ass Mustang will still squeeze his way in. But nope…no one wants to get in front of you.

Except me.

And then my chance….the middle lane opens up. So I signal and start to speed up. Yay for speed! I forgot all about it. I thought my car was playing the part of the tortoise in the Tortoise and the Hare production.

And then what do you, you bitch? You speed up. Now I’m easily going 90. Ninety fucking miles per hour and you must be going faster than me all so that I don’t pass you. What the fuck?? I rode up your ass the whole time. And even beeped, as in “Why don’t you get the fuck out of this lane and let real people drive, you motherfucking cunt?” But nothing. And only then…until I want to fit my car into that MONSTROUS space between you and the car in front of you that you care? You suck hairy droopy sweaty dirty salty just-came-from-a-rugby-game-in-the-rain balls.

I hope you can read sign-language because I signed four little letters at you while I finally passed your ass.



2 thoughts on “Dear Mercedes-Benz Driver

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