Propeller Skies

Enough already.

Read FDA: Restaurants On Front Lines In Obesity Fight.

Smoove D, minding his own damn business, is waiting to cross the street in Atlantic Station, an overrated and underwhelming retail development in Midtown Atlanta. An early 1990s vintage red and white Ford Bronco full of lost retards pulls up next to Smoove D. The passenger window rolls down and the following exchange takes place.

“Can you give us directions to Perimeter Mall?”

“Where?”

“Perimeter Mall.”

“No.”

“It’s on Ashford Dunwoody.”

“Never heard of it.”

Perimeter Mall is fucking fifteen miles from Atlantic Station. Buy a motherfucking map and stop bothering me.

I found this sweet bumper sticker in my ghetto fabulous apartment complex parking lot Sunday afternoon.

Because most bumper stickers are either stupid, a cliche, or both, the Bumper Sticker of the Week™ will not be a particularly regular feature.

I love it when bad things happen to Lexus driving badge whores. Only a BMW getting towed would have made this scene better.

notes:

The random pedestrian pictured is not the Lexus owner.

A three dollar cover charge to gain access to a dive bar full of drunk 18 to 24 year old venereal disease ridden sorority girls is an absolute bargain. Too bad the feminazi fun police are protesting this time honored sorority girl mating ritual. However, the feminazi fun police are having no success overcoming three incontrovertible laws of nature, which are:

• Binge drinking is really fun;
• Sorority girls are sluts; and
• Frat boys will fuck anything that moves including, but not limited to, Dalmations, sheep and goats.

I found this slightly dented Oldsmobile in my ghetto fabulous apartment complex parking lot this evening.

This week, the prestigious Propeller Skies Fucktard of the Week™ award is personal. The following scene greeted me in the parking lot of my ghetto fabulous apartment complex this morning:

Merely scraping the bumper of an automobile is not enough to qualify one for the coveted Fucktard of the Week™ award. This Fucktard of the Week™ went above and beyond normal levels of idiocy by causing the following damages:

• Gouged bumper cover;
• Dented and scratched headlight assembly; and
• Scratched fender.

I realize with all the Safe Drivers of the Week™ and drunk drivers residing in my ghetto fabulous apartment complex it was only a matter of time before my Acura TL would be molested. However, I would have liked to make more than three fucking payments on the goddamn car. All five Prizzo Skeezy readers are invited to speculate on the estimated cost of repairs via the comments link. Hint: projector beam HID assemblies are not free.

[Update: the Fucktard of the Week™ did leave contact information. However, he took his sweet time returning Smoove D's phone calls. Additionally, note or no note, crashing into a parked car automatically qualifies a person for Fucktard of the Week™ status - Ed.]

The winner of the prestigious Propeller Skies Fucktard of the Week™ award is a shining example for safe drivers everywhere. Enjoy Busta Rhymes’ commentary on a cracker who parked a Ferrari in a rose bush. Note how the fat jack-off pig threatens to jail Mr. Rhymes for no reason at the end of the tape. That bullshit is unconstitutional. Fuck the police.

For any of the Ferrari driver’s friends who think this is not funny, I think this is some motherfucking hilarious shit. Got a problem with me laughing at your dumb ass? Stop doing stupid shit.

This evening I came out of the grocery store and found a pimped Lexus IS300 parked next to my bitchin’ Acura. Similar to the fifth Baller of the Week™ contestant, this week’s contestant is balling out of control. Enjoy the bling:

This is the second Baller of the Week™ contestant with the distinction of a blue book value exceeding the cost of the bling.

I found this ridiculous riced out Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution VIII in Virginia Highlands. Although a stock Evo is an extremely capable car with plenty of performance enhancing parts (which are the antithesis of rice), the overwhelming amount of garish stickers elevate this car to ricer status. Behold the power of rice: