Fuck Seattle and fuck standing in lines. Fuck standing in line at the bus stop. Fuck standing in line at the bar. Fuck standing in line in any situation where Seattleites are waiting to do something. And especially, fuck standing in line an hour early at the airport gate on a flight to Seattle because your plane is filled with too many line-loving Seattle assholes.
Everywhere else, we do it normal. We don’t wait in line like a fucking kindergarten class on a field trip to the god damn zoo. We wait there. And when the bus arrives, we walk in the general direction of the fucking bus door. We’re not obsessively compelled to form bearded fucking lines of rain soaked beanies. We just get on the fucking bus.
But you, Seattle. You don’t just go to the bar and order that locally crafted 110 IBU Imperial IPA made with organic specialty fucking hops. No. You must first form a fucking bar slicing mandolin of impenetrable smugness. Because you’re assholes. Fuck your passive aggressive corralling, fuck your pompous space mongering, and fuck your fucking lines, Seattle.
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