Fat Slobs in Nashville

   
   "Fat Slobs in Nashville"
   
   Needing to always take my therapy dog in the car, and I never get out for more than fifteen minutes a day, unless to see a physician or Priest; anyway, I drove my Poor Man's Wolfhound to the grocery market to get some orange chicken and Icelandic water for the holy hound--in there for under 4 minutes, leaving the cool canine inside with windows down, and a dog's hair can act as insulation against the heat.
   When I make my exit, some fat slob of a woman has her cell phone out, examining my automobile, and hollers at me with a demonic drawl, asking if I'm the owner of the vehicle with my loyal pal inside, her informing me that I had been torturing the animal; thus, I said that I was the owner and explained the scenario; next, she starts ranting, so I told her:  "Shut your face, and stay out of my business!"
   Fat slobs and unattractive people are usually those that start trouble, due to being pissed as they're locked inside bodies that swallow plenty of aggression, calcifying their pineal gland and having no telepathic sense of what it truly means to be downtrodden.  I don't eat myself into having a cottage cheese buttocks.  I don't drink myself into black-outs or stupidity.  As Christ said:  "Get the splinter out of your own eye, before attempting to get it out of another's."  And my advice:  "Consider salads and green tea."