Zach Hates You

I’ve been getting a lot of fan mail here at zachhatesyou.com so I figured I would take the time to answer some comments that will never be approved and thrown to the spam filter.  Fuck you  assholes!

PenIsonse commented on “Seattle bores me at 2am post with, “Hi, nice posts there hold responsible’s concerning the interesting advice.”

Why thank you my dear fuckstick.  My posts are nice.  Nice posts are what I have.  What in the fucking fuck you do mean by “hold responsible’s concerning the interesting advice”?  If you mean, “holding wang is interesting,” I would suggest putting the smiley face after all of that.  Thanks!

Casino 1243389525 wrote, “Casino 1243389525.”  Huh…well I really don’t understand what the hell you’re trying for there.  No link or anything.  Way to go.  Keep on keeping on.

CHEAP VIAGRA said, “????????????? ????? ?? ??????????? ???????? ??? ?????? Great work, well researched,” about my “You’re lucky to be alive” post.  Thank you so much.  That post was brought to you by painstaking research in fact.  I slaved away in the jungles of Seattle for weeks finding the perfect hobo to teach me his ways of hoboing.  I wanted to find one that looked like Jesus, but that’s a whole bunch of them.  Plus, they’re all white and we all know that Jesus as not a white man.  He was purple.

How I Lost Thirty Pounds in Thirty Days submited, “Hi, nice post. I have been pondering this topic,so thanks for sharing. I’ll certainly be coming back to your posts.”  Here you fatass, I fixed it for you :  “Dearest Zach,  you are the bestest best person in the world.  You are full of win.  In fact, there is so much win that I have shit myself typing this.”

Now isn’t this fun!  Not really, but I’m going to keep it up!

FlomiScedcime said,

“Hi. Just some more question. Realy, need your help.
I work at Apple in Cork?

Thenks. I am Waiting for answer!!!”

What the shit is an Apple in Cork?   Really?  What the fuck do either of those have in common?  And what is the question?  Is it about fisting?  How about midgets?  Or best yet, fisting midgets!   Thensks yo!

FlomiScedcime actually has a few more comments.  Shame practice didn’t make his/her grammar any better.

“Hello. Just more question. Realy, please, help.
Why do i drink so much???? :(?

Thenks, bro. I am vaiting for answer!!!”

And,

“Hello Man!, need your help.
What is wrong with me?

Thenks, bro. I am vaiting for answer!!!”

Also,

“Hello Man!, please, help me.
Is my son smoking diet pills?

Thenks. I am vaiting for answer!!!”

My answer for all of these questions is this: Die in a fire.  Fuck you god damn spammers.  Sure, most of this was due to bots.  I hate you bots.  I’m not your god damn “bro” you effin robot.  YOU’RE A MACHINE.  Just wait though people.  First annoying ass comments on blogs, next…Skynet.

Judgment Day is comes closer everyday bitches.  I for one would love to shoot the Governator in the face.

Stay frosty mofuckas and please remember, a shotgun works better then the spam button.

-Z-

So rather then hear my roomy drink last night and giggle with a boy she brought over, I figured I’d take a zip on the bike around town.  “Hey, it’s a little after 2am,” I think, “there shouldn’t be too many people on the road at this time.”

WRONG.  People are fucksticks.  I hate people.  I figure I was going to bump into some random crackheads or something yelling at me.  I didn’t consider how retarded people are when they drive their cars early in the night.

The gas light is is lit on my new to me SV650.  Quick zip over to the 76 station I haven’t been to for a fill up.  Come to find out, it didn’t have the shitty “safety” bullshit where it feels like I’m pulling back on a horse cock because I’m not jamming the nozzle into my tank.  3.7 gallons and 10 bucks later, I hit the road.

West Seattle has the best view of the city and is one of my favorite places to zip out here.  Seattle looks the prettiest at night from this side of the water.  On a full moon, it’s even better.  So as I do my a lap around Alki there were two other bikers hanging out parked and I considered stopping for a second to talk to them.  Until I saw the girl was on a sportbike and had white leather chaps.  That screams to me “OMG LOOKIT ME! IM A GIRL THAT RIDES A BIKE BUT I’M CUTE! LOOK AT ME!”  Ugh, pass.  Coming back on Admiral Way was fun.  No one on the road and nice wide turns to use my awesome sticky tires on my new bitching bike.  The entire time I have Pandora playing on my iPhone blasting some industrial.  Hop on 99 and head into downtown.  I’m having a great time…until I decided to go to Capitol Hill.

What the hell is wrong with the timing on Broadway?  stoplightstoplightstoplightstoplight.  On the plus side, all kinds of buildings are getting knocked the hell down.  As tempted as I was to climb around in half demolished buildings as of late, it was moto time.  The lights were annoying me so it was time to leave the Hill, I took Denny heading back into downtown.  There’s only one car in front of me as I go down.  I got a goober in my eye so I have my visor flipped to wipe it out and something liquid hits my face.  Honestly, I don’t know if it was the car that hit me with it or it was from the apartments.  I know my hand took most of it and it was water.  I was not pleased, but I wasn’t going to let this ruin my night.  A couple of deep breaths and flicks of the throttle, I’m gone.

The douche is in my mirrors and I’m bombing up Eastlake.  “Watch out for the S.L.U.T. rails,” repeats in my head.  That would be embarrassing to get thrown off my bike by the S.L.U.T.  Flashing lights are coming at me from the West, the light changes to red and a cop is taking the turn to where I pull up without his siren going.  He hits the corner and jams it going the opposite direction.  There’s four open lanes in front of me and that cop had to be hauling ass to somewhere important where he isn’t the only one.   I see the lights turn from red to green and I fly.

This is what I love the most about riding.  I don’t care for big rallies or showing who’s bike is faster, shinier or louder.  Open roads and no one around me.  That’s all I want.

It’s getting a bit nippy since Washington is bullshit and still being cold.  I head back up on Fifth and take Denny down to Second where I make an illegal turn.  No one in Beltown but crackheads wondering the road.  Lots of crackheads.  Maybe some sort of crackhead ball was going on.  People were everywhere, but at least not in the road (for once).  The lights on 2nd Ave are kinda fun actually.  I don’t know what speed it is to hit them all right, but it’s not 47mph.   The fun part is to get to the light quickly, hit the breaks, downshift, and have to balance to wait for the light to turn.  I’m enjoying my little breaking game and some assclown with halogen lights thinks I want to play with him.  I’ve been ahead of him for over a block and he pulls into my blind-spot so now I’m upset.  For some reason this moron thinks he can outrun a motorcycle in short city blocks.  Sure asshole, I’ll play, but I’m not going to stop my balance at the light game.  He blows the light.  He’s a cheater.

We’re in the International District now.   The wide right handed sweeper comes up.  Taking the turn as hard and fast as I did, I almost put my knee down.  “Maybe I should get some pucks,” goes through my head as I slingshot past him and listen to the  sexy M4 pipe roar as I give the bike more throttle.  Bye bye stupid cager.  Your vehicle sucks.  You suck.  Die in a fire.  SUV wang is stopped at a light that was a nice shade of green when I went through it seconds before.  4th Ave spans ahead of me with nothingness .  Back to the empty road.

3am.  Whatever the roommate was doing, it should be over by now.  I hop onto Airport Way and do my quick little sprint down the road and make it to my place in seconds.  Helmet comes off, tunes are still playing.  I put my Rainbow Bright colored of a bike inside the Hanta Haus and give it a loving pat for a job well done.  I love riding.  I brush my teeth and head upstairs.

I pull out my earplugs to hear the opening of another beer and giggling.

…Fuck