Time for something a little closer to home

People:

As much as I talk about the horrors abroad, I want to take a moment to warn you of something a little closer to home... Punks. You know the little bastards I'm talking about. 18 years old, drive a shitty little older Hyundai Accent with the "KUSTOM" Decal in the back window, and the blue license plate cover that matches the colour of the smoke coming out the stock exhaust with the "Custom" tip they bought at Canadian Tire. Pumpin out their "Techo" on their Stock Stereo with the "Custom" head unit purchased at Wal-Mart at volumes intended to shake the chrome painted plastic hub caps off, but in reality only making the loose pieces buzz and the music distorted. The damn car's being held together by the shitty paint job and that god foresaken "Wing" hanging off the back of the jesus thing. Now, a logical person would think instead of spending a little money on cheap shit for a busted car, you'd first fix the oil burning, the squeaky suspension, the window that doesn't close right... I mean, I know they work hard at Tim Hortons, or as a box boy at the grocery store or whatever job pays them minimum wage for 3 hours a week. And they need to spend their money on their cheap Hair Gel, and the $400 Oakleys, and the $300 Skate shoes (even though they can't skate worth a shite and never do the damn things up)... But you're 18 years old, you don't know shit about shit, AND PULL UP YOUR F**KIN PANTS!!! (Sound familiar?) They drive their car like it belongs in the Indy 500 when in reality it barely has more horsepower than the ride on lawn mower my Dad uses on a regular basis... Hangin out in a parking lot late at night with others of your kind serves only one purpose... Saves effort when attempting to eliminate you.

That's it, I'm out...
Cheers

P.S. "But if this Cape shrinks... Consider your species extinct..."