Goth Children should be put in a can and thrown into the sea
Yesterday while biking through scenic Adrian, Michigan I stumbled upon some Gothic children burrowing around a Trestle trail bridge. They, as all Goths do, appeared angry, melancholy, dirty and bitter. As I glided past them they snickered and may have called me a bitch under their breath. I retaliated with a "get out of my way you little fuckers." They were alarmed. Why? Maybe it was because their combined athleticism could fit in my pinky, or maybe they didn't expect such harsh words from someone wearing a coordinating pink yoga outfit.