If I had a scalp for everyone douche I'd wanted to kill, I'd be a damn surgeon.

Today, I saw a guy - or rather a fucking hipster-bitch tool - show off his weaboo drawings to some chicks who probably wanted his dick after being shown the spectacle of his Japanese inspired penile ejaculation. Of course, I wanted a piece of that action, so I waited. He was sitting, his hands clasping his douchy-as-fuck earphones that were bigger than Yao-Ming and Shaqeal O'Neal's lovechild. So of course I wanted to shit on his little appraising dick-licking parade of his.

I approached this moon-speak-infatuated degenerate and asked if he drew.

"Of course I know how to draw," said the little cunt.

"I asked if you drew, not if your knew how to draw," I retort.

"Well I do," he insisted with this sense of menstrual sass.

"May I scrutinize your drawings(you little shit)?"

-"What?"-

"You little sugar bunny, I said."

He gave his little sketch book with one sparkly gigantic eye on the cover.

"That's me."

"You're dicking me"

Can't you tell? Are you blind?"

"Considering you're a darkie, fully fleshed, a round nose, not limbless, with hair that belongs on the head of metro-sexual dumb-ass, and a fashion sense of a ghono'rheic hipster-bitch from France, I'd say I can't tell."

"Well, you don't have an eye for art."

"You're probably right."

I should've stabbed him in the eye and thrown him in the sand gardens of Okinawa.

FIN