Sometimes a Dead Jackass is Just a Dead S.O.B.

Hey, it’s never too early to call a jackass a jackass, is it?  No it ain’t.  Leave it to a prick like me if you want.  A jackass driving drunk at 132 miles per hour who suddenly goes to zero is better for everybody, that’s what I think.  Whatever his dim friends might say about it, a jackass in a Porsche going 132 mph is simply firing his gun into a crowd.  Just like the soldiers in Syria who probably swallow some good shots down before pumping bullets out into a crowd of innocent people.  When a jackass gets drunk and puts a friend in his car and drives 132 mph down a road and crashes and kills himself and his passenger I call it manslaughter.

Some of this dick’s friends thought it might be a good idea to call movie critic Roger Ebert some nasty names for Tweeting ‘Friends don’t let jackasses drink and drive’ shortly after the ‘accident.’  They thought somehow it might be too early for such harsh criticism.

Would it have been too early for me to have thrown a rock through Ryan Dunn’s windshield?  Because I surely would have if he’d driven past me that night.  You betcha.  I do lots of windy mountain road bike stuff and nine times out of ten its some jerkoff with a beard in a Porsche that comes speeding through and nearly misses a curve.  I kid you not.  These guys with the Porsches have some issues, it seems.  I’ve got a very bad attitude about these people.  If one of them takes me out while I’m on the road, I give everyone permission to beat the guy to death with a rock.  You can also smile at his dead body if you like – just like I’m doing now.

I had a friend in high school back in the seventies who decided to drive 100 mph down Constitution Avenue in Washington, D.C.  He crashed into a tree.  Killed his best friend and his lovely little sister who was a year behind me in school.  I ran into this prick several years later in a burger joint.  He looked like a homeless broken nut at the age of nineteen.  I said ‘Hi’ and shouldered him out of my way at the door.  Forgiveness is for twits.

But that’s just the kind of nightmarish guy I am.

So Ryan Dunn’s friends can bend over low and kiss my ass.  A dead jackass is better than a live one any day.