Check this quiz out. Ann Coulter is a particularly vile species of humanoid.
Last night, while sipping a glass of wine on the porch, post-workout and relaxxxxxxxxxxxxed, I noticed a spot of something white on the side of my car. Hhmmm. Did a bird manage to shit on the vertical plane of my vehicle? No. It’s another freaking ding, and the white spot was the paint that came off the door of the SUV that put it there. This brings the tally to: one softball-sized dent near the front headlight, two door dings, two smaller dings from branches falling out of a tree during a storm and one deep ding caused by me when I was mowing the yard and hit a rock mere days after buying the car. I was bitching about this to Dad last night and he told me about rubber bumpers (pads?) you can get that surround your vehicle when it’s parked. I guess like bumper cars. While the bumpers might be about as cool as having to wear headgear for your braces in high school, I’m considering getting some. Each dent/ding is a mark upon my soul. That’s only partial exaggeration. And what the fuck is wrong with people that they can’t get out of their behemoths without fucking up my car? Ah yes, the super-sizing of America. It’s not their fault. Perhaps I can sue McDonald’s.