If the douchebags driving ridiculously loud motorcycles and cars that put out between 110 and 120 decibels of annoyance (about the same sound level as a jet taking off or gunshots) weren’t enough, we have to contend with these angry douchebags who use their vehicles to announce that they are likely half-crazy whackjobs. What kind of anger is behind the wheel of this truck telling me to “Fuck my hybrid” or somehow virtue signaling me that his ‘Mericun truck was built with wrenches, not chopsticks? The boob message to the left hints at a tendency to accept his incel situation while on the far right he’s threatening all that approach him or give him any side-eye that he’s willing to pull a gun on the transgressor.

As we passed him with my man-boobs heaving and our hybrid flipping him a middle chopstick, I tried to spy what size his impressive tool might be, but his blacked-out windows prevented me from witnessing firsthand him beating off to how powerful, strong, and hard his angry bro-ness has grown to be. I trembled next to this prime example of manhood, I mean douchebaggery.