I nudged Carolyn, one of the females that hangs with the G-Crew, and I said, "check out that duesch over there with that shirt." She looked over and was like "ahh...what does that mean?" Not the sharpest broad out there. I said, "that's the day the next US President is sworn in office." She rolled her eyes and said "pleeease."
The dude was kind of reedy and looked just like this guy:
Except with gray/white lettuce.
His son, and I am not exaggerating, looked almost exactly like this:
You know, about 16, had the tight jetblack jeans, dyed hair, an earring, the works.
The daughter, who was about 13, looked a little like this:
Didn't have the lip ring, but HAD that rose ring thing and the pink fukked-up dyed hair.
So here this fukko is, wearing a "1-20-09" shirt out in public, while bringing his damn freak children out in public as well. No question he encouraged them from the get-go to "open your mind" and encouraged "free thinking and intellect" and without a doubt, he pushed his pussy liberal views on these kids.
As luck would have it, he got up to either take a piss or something and walked towards our table. "Hello sir!" I said. He stopped and looked kind of alarmed and said "hi." I said, "what's that date on your shirt?"
He kind of muttered, "That's when we finally get a President in office."
I adjusted my thin-rimmed glasses and pointed at him and said "What about the date you stop helping pussify my country? Guess that would be a blank shirt."
He pointed to the date on his shirt and "I cannot WAIT until that day!" while lifting his chin up and shaking/twirling his dome like a fukken homo. He said it angrily and walked back to his table and sat down. There was some trembling in his voice and his children looked over at our table. He shook his head and looked like he was about to fukken start crying. We all were drinking drafts and my buddy Bruce had put down several and was feeling it. He said loudly "Three cheers for George W. Bush!!" We all raised our glasses while looking at the fukker's table and yelled, "Hip hip ...HOORAY!...hip hip....HOORAY! hip hip...HOORAY!!" and clinked glasses and took a drink and I said, "Rack Dubya!"
"Let's go." the dude said, as his kids both looked like they had slipped even further into depression seeing their fukken dad get run. They walked past our table and he said "Since we can't talk CIVIL about anything anymore."
They walked to the front to pay and Bruce goes "gonna go home and dye your hair pink too?"
Our table, jovial with our fill of adult refreshments, busted out in unison with "bwhahahahahhahaha!!"
i folded my arms and watched as they left
and the waitress, who knows us, came by our table smiling and shook her head. "i can't stand liberals either, guys. Thanks." I smacked her ass as she walked by and said "no problem!"
Fukken sucks not to be me right about now.
GAP
Toaster Strudels
