pdb

Mr Diesel:

Despite the extremely low probability of such an event occuring, I wish to warn you that should you and I ever come in close proximity, say, the same room, I will immediately and without hesitation kick you in the beanbag. You might wonder why I would take such umbrage at your mere presence. I have a simple answer: The Fast And The Furious.

Don't get me wrong. Considering you are not Steve McQueen (and He would have undoubtably also punted your manberries for stealing and mangling His "Racing is life" monologue from Le Mans) it was a passable movie. The problem is, the runaway popularity of the flick has encouraged the mutation and propagation of a whole new type of slacker loser to pollute my parking lot after the sun goes down. I used to only be beset by skateboarders, the very greasy, pathetic, pierced and tattooed sludge that sinks to the bottom of the barrel of teenagerhood. They were easily scattered for days at a time by a stern word yelled out the door, or in rare events, the arrivial of a local PD unit.

But now, thanks to your film and the culture it has spawned out of all proportion to the actual quality of your piece of 'art', I must now contend with that breed of grown up skateboarders with trust fund money: The Ricebois. Equally as repellant as the skateboarders, only now instead of trundling around the blacktop on their toys, littering the parking lot with cigarrette butts and fast food wrappers, and leering creepily at any nearby women, the damage has been upgraded to include:

• Burnouts
• Zooming through the parking lot at near interstate speeds
• Beer bottles
• Drug use and dealing
• Shouting at and occasionally approaching women who want to have nothing do do with them
• Random fistfights

I imagine that the idiocy level of this behavior has been ratcheted up because while it takes a special child indeed to think it is cool to roll around unprotected on a plank of wood with a rollerskate nailed to it, it takes a whole 'nother order of magnitude of cubic stupid to spend thousands of dollars on useless gadgets to project the appearance of performance onto a Japanese economy car. Being somewhat of a car nut myself, I can understand the desire to make your mundane everyday ride a tad more unique. But if performance is indeed the goal, why not start with, you know, a performance car? No, wait, I know. It's because you're a fucking retard. That you even considered starting with a four cylinder front wheel drive grandma car shows that you're a mere poseur.

Normally, I wouldn't care. The watchword of a libertarian is 'each to their own hell, on their own dime.' Unfortunately, since speed isn't the object, but image is, the preferred hangout isn't a dragstrip or even a deserted road where cars can be tested against each other. No, these cockmongers insist on posing where they can be seen, like fetal alcohol syndrome peacocks with neon. Sorry, but their right to act like a dumbass ends where my wallet begins, which just so happens to include my parking lot.

So now I will have to stay for hours after close to make PD calls, and take pictures and licence plate numbers, eating up time that I would much rather spend on sleeping, all thanks to your goddamned movie. I hope you now understand why, in the future, my boot will have to make acquaintence with your nads.

Regards,
pdb

ps: I always get you and The Rock mixed up, do you guys have any handy spotting features I could jot down?