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There’s a few certain individuals on this planet, a select group of “special” individuals who are so tremendously far up their own rectum that it baffles the imagination how their breath doesn’t constantly reek of their own fecal matter.

Inspector Douche

Ya’ll know the type I’m referring to right? The little power trippers whom, really, have absolutely no power or authority whatsoever- but act like some higher deity has bestowed them with the gift of supreme ruler over all mankind.

What’s that? Parking Inspectors? Noooo… I couldn’t possibly be talking about them…Could I? You mean, like this douche-sicle on the left? With his leather jacket clearly trying to imitate a police officer (you know- a police officer, e.g – individual with real power). What is up with that wide brimmed hat there too, buddy? Lil rodeo ho-down back at the farm after you’re done being the worlds most massive prick?

Let me set the scene dear reader- the horrendously horrifying in a hilarious happening kind of scene. My boss and I were on our way to hunt down some shmexy furniture for the office board room- our dull drab office board room (yes it apparently takes an in person visit from a manager and a staff member to choose chairs now). So there we are, reader, there we are on our innocent and merry way to choose furniture, when suddenly! Pause for dramatic effect.

There is a douche-sicle’s car parked halfway across a drive way into the office furniture stores car park. Now, before I go on, please note my boss is a 60 possibly 70 something year old man. So there he is, all half cocked and ready to fire- winds down his VW’s fancy window and lets his arm hang out of the car (reader- you best prepare your best sarcastic yet completely drab mental voice for this next line) “Uh mate, pretty sure you can’t park there”. Boom. Totally deadpan.

Sometimes they ride retarded looking bikes

Boss drives off as the parking inspector starts on a BIG rant about how he’s “An officer”and can park “wherever the fuck he wants”. Oh yes, he arced up big time. That little big man got all fired up the moment someone challenged his fake authority. My boss rolls away in his 70,000 dollar car and parks in the car park (yes he managed to fit passed- just).

Was little big fake authority man done? Oh no. Not even close. So there we are, walking away from the car when little big man walks up and starts mouthing off “Mate if you can’t fit through that you’ve got rocks in your head” – My boss, completely ignores him, walks on, ten metres away when the guys still talking my boss turns around and – again deadpan sarcasm- says “Sorry, mate, did you say something?” Guy begins to start a whole new rant and boss walks off.

Sometimes they travel in packs- you know, like dogs

Reader- I’ve never had so much respect for a big executive type before in my life. Or so little respect for the fucktards that try to call themselves “Officers” when they’re just drab little men in faux leather coats being massive dick wads to the general public and inconveniencing the entirety of the population capable of driving.

It’s not their job, it’s the way they act,  it’s their attitude. As it is- their entire job consists of making peoples lives miserable on purpose – so why would they then add to that by being a huge prick? It truly does confound the senses. If I ever meet a polite parking inspector who truly is just doing their job and acknowledges that they have no real authority whatsoever apart from their inherited douchey-ness- I will shake that persons hand.

So a big “Fuck you” to those with no real power who think they’re gods among men from this blogger.

Fuck you very much.

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