Dudes Who Have Pomeranians. And Attitudes.
So yesterday I was having a shitty day in the office because some of my co-workers’ job descriptions say “fuck shit up and let other people fix it.” It was a nice day so I decided to go to the park to eat lunch and watch chicks sunbathe. As I turned a corner to park my car, this old dude shouts at me, “Slow down, asshole!” The speed limit was 25, and I was going 23 so I’m already winning this one. He was like 65, wearing salmon-colored shorts and brown socks pulled up, and walking a pomeranian (none of these things applied to me… four more points for Archer). Apparently this glittering jewel of manliness has a better idea of what the speed limit should be than anyone else does, and has crowned himself and his miserable fucking dog the enforcers. I was like, “Seriously, bro?” Since I was already having a shitty day, I did not care for his suggestion. He probably did not expect me to stop my car, get out, and get in his face. But I did expect him to pick up his pomeranian and run away, which he did.