it's the angry middle finger for you, sir

[thunderloin]

an ode to a douche

you are the sun, and the tiny little earth revolves around you

it must be nice, not caring the way that you do

with your pretty face, and phony smile

and your love them and leave them style

and if just for once, things go my way

you thought you'd text in and say

would you like to take me home?

well sir, next birthday

you'll celebrate alone