I just saw an ad for a Ford truck. It touted that it was big. I'm sorry, I'm not really conveying the magnitude of this truck. The deep voiced man on the ad said it was B-I-G. It was so big that this helpful advertisement told me that I would never have to ask to "skootch back" my seat. Heh, heh, heh... Yeah, not like those weak normal sized people in their normal sized vehicles. Godammit, we are Americans! We need the space to be free! Holy mother of fuck. What a time to be alive! To know I can have all that fucking cargo space and still have a full cab full of my gigantic family so we can go to Olive Garden and eat all the motherfucking breadsticks the Good Lord has blessed us to gorge on in His Glory! Hallelujah!
While it might be true that every parking lot one enters in the United States is now filled with tiny women struggling to get their enormous trucks in and out of parking spots, I think of it as a small price to pay for the freedom to destroy our planet in the way we see fit. That's what our nation was built on... Suburban moms behind the wheel of otherwise empty mammoth four wheel drive pickups that they only use to go to the local strip plaza to buy shit they don't need. It's good for the economy, and if Australia has to burn up, that's their fucking problem. USA baby!
That's when it hit me. If a Ford F-250 or GMC Canyon was good, a Peterbuilt 379 was even better. While all the assholes in my cushy suburban neighborhood cruise in their macho Chevy Silverado extended cab pickups, I will fire up the old Peterbuilt in the driveway. Taste the diesel you pussies! I can only imagine my feeling of triumph as I perch majestically atop my rig as I parade down the residential streets with smoke stacks billowing Raw American Power. When the massive Caterpillar C-15 diesel engine roars to life, those suburban Moms will know I mean fucking business.
Every single enormous extended cab pickup truck I see in my community only has one person in it, the driver. The gigantic cargo area is always pristine as it has never been used. Now I might up the ante and blast through school zones hauling a monster yet completely empty trailer behind me, but that will only be as a show of force. Most days I will embrace my never ebbing patriotic zeal by traveling with a man dressed in an Uncle Sam outfit holding sparklers locked into the sleeper cab as I wave a flag out the window large enough to produce enough drag to pull the rig slightly to the left. Most people won't notice the swerving of the truck as I will be blasting Dierks Bentley, Toby Keith, and Jason Aldean songs out of my massive sound system.
All you out there driving your GMC Denali Yukon Tundra Fake Adventure Tonka Trucks in the suburbs, look out! Dennis Leary can scream at anybody he wants on corporate voice overs. I am the real fucking deal and I am unstoppable like a goddamn hurricane of axes going up an icy mountain of lion piss. USA!
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