So lets paint a mental picture together. We're just chillin like villains on the front porch, drinking pakola and eating chips that have gone stale (but your mom refuses to throw them out because she cheap as fuck). The wind is rolling by, slapping Sagar on the buttocks. The sun is peeking from the heavens casting its rays down on the earth kissing Sagar's buttocks. Overall, a good summer day. Then suddenly, out of nowhere you hear it..."VROOOOOOM VROOOOM". Like the devil was taking a shit so big he needed gods help. The sound of cheap knock off parts tacked onto a 1987 Honda Civic. Like a whore who needs to put mounds of makeup on to hide her true face. I don't know whats worse, the horrendous looking car, the god awful sound it makes, or the douche-bag behind the wheel. It just screams "I HAVE A SMALL PENIS, LOOK", and apparently thats what the driver wants.
See unlike a Ferrari or a Lamborghini, whose throaty engines produce symphonies that make you erupt in your pants or its sleek, clean lines that make you want to stick your dick in the exhaust, these cars make you vomit. If you own a ricer, please, please, sell it or better yet just burn it. You'll be doing the whole world a great favor.
Peace Faggots
-Faizan
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