Dear Prius Owners,
Thank you for doing your part to make the planet a better place. It’s nice to have a conscientious group of tree hugging tofu monkeys out there, willing to drive a hunk of poo so that the polar bears aren’t forced to cannibalize each other. But I feel it’s time we addressed your means of transportation.
Your car looks like a cross between a hot wheels and a toaster. I mean, it’s Ugly. Capital YOU. That whizzing, whirring pile of moving parts looks like a shoe...unfortunately it’s your car.
I’m sure you get looks from the ladies when you pull up to a red light, your pony tail whipping in the wind as you rev your engine...only to have your car make a sound like a robot getting a boner.
It’s not like driving a car with batteries and gasoline is any safer for the
driver either. A sardine can with flammable liquids and charged coiling plus a
person behind the wheel with way too many grande soy macchiattos in their blood
can only mean carmageddon...and even hippy blood spills red on the asphalt.
And not to bash hippies, but I’m going to and who doesn’t just love making
fun of them. With your hackey sack circles, hemp necklaces, and your undying
love of folksy double entendre bumper stickers.
Oh look, it says CO-EXIST, in all different religious symbols on the back of
your Prius. How...cute. And trust me, with your stinky closet full of Bush
hating T-Shirts you got from Hot Topic, you’re sure to land that barista at the
Daily Grind. You know, cause Starbucks is just soooo corporate and poopy.
Trashing the president is like beating a soccer mom with a baseball bat. It’s fun at first, but then they’ll probably find some way to arrest you for it.
What I’m saying is that we’re all very proud of you for choosing to drive a
car that gets great gas mileage but please don’t break your arm patting yourself
on the back.
We get it...you’re a great eco-warrior, battling the world’s oppressive hold
on our wallets, chaining us to the gas pump, raining down woe and destruction,
kicking puppies, punching babies, blah blah blah.
If you could just do all of that over there in the slow lane, we’d all