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Pete Cuezze's death is a cross between
Nathan Hruska an idiot who put himself in harm's way and
Clark Waldram who was killed by someone else.
God bless online court records. You can go to Missouri
Case.net, click on 'Case Number Search' and enter "00CV208830" (that's right motherfucker, the stories I tell with these memorials aren't
fiction. They're definitely opinion-heavy but they're also fact filled). Or you can just read the below synopsis.
On I-70 Pete Cuezze runs out of gas. Holy pussyfart. Even a fucking, illiterate, retarded, mexican whore can comprehend what it means
when the gas gauge says 'E'. Literally.
I know, I know. I throw around "fucking, illiterate, retarded, mexican whore" a lot as a pejorative term, but in this instance I literally
mean a fucking (in the process of fornicating,
copulating), illiterate (a person who cannot read
nor write), retarded (a person with an IQ below
55), mexican (a person descended from natives
of Mexico) whore (a person who engages in
sexual acts for money). Even that person, who is incapable of reading, mentally defecient, foreign to America, and busy turning a trick can use
their limited knowledge and abilities to realize that they need some more god damn gas.
Anywho. As Pete is filling up his car on the interstate's shoulder along comes an
Oliver Trucking 18 wheeler and relieves Pete of his life. Ahh sweet, sweet
natural selection. Who'd a thunk that filling up your vehicle inches away from tons of steel traveling at 70 mph would be life endagering?
Not Pete, otherwise he would have enlisted a fucking, illiterate, retarded, mexican whore to tell him when to get some more fucking gas.
Luckily though, his survivors won't have that problem. They will be able to afford all the ignorant 3rd world hookers that
$7 million can buy because lucky dumbshit Pete
was taken out by a trucking company that decided to make a settlement rather than let a jury decide if their drivers had falsified their driving logs.
Man I love this story. No good guys, just bad/stupid guys and they all pay in the end. And I live happily ever after. Best of all, the half mile
drive up to the exit 18 is beautifully litter free.
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There I was, titty fucking some random skank's nipples off, wondering if that was enough or if I needed to do something else completely pointless for breast cancer. If only there was a gesture equally as empty as wearing a pink bracelet or having a bake sale or throwing a magnetic ribbon on my car or walking with a herd of heifers for 5 kilometers. Something that would show my hollow support without taking any actual effort nor furthering the cause in any real way. Then it hit me like a ton of boobs. This and every October, porkjerky.com will go pink as a lip service tribute to breast cancer. Please follow my magnanimous example and do something meaninglessly worthless that doesn't require any real effort on your part for this great cause. Believe me when I say, it should be the least we can do.