This article is to the jerk that kicked my foot on the train on Monday. If you recognize your wretched self after reading this article, you jerk, write to me--instructions can be found at the end of this rant.
When you were exiting the eastbound train at about 4:40 PM on Monday June 21st at Yonge station, you delivered a deliberate, swift and painful kick to my right foot. Then, like the coward you are, you scurried off the train, too quick for me to even realize what had happened until after you were gone.
It all happened so quickly. I was more in shock until I felt painful stinging on my toes. I looked around and saw you running down the stairs. I hope you missed your train, you imbecile.
My fellow passengers too were wide-eyed in shock. They saw you stop purposefully in front of me and deliver your precise kick to my foot, and then take off like a thief in the night. You kicked me while I had my eyes closed and was just nodding off, you reptilian scumbag. You kicked me, and it hurt.
Was my bag in the way? If it was, I apologize--not just to you, you feeble-minded chimp, but to the two women who exited before you and found no issue with my bag, which I know I had in between my legs and not in an inconsiderate or obstructive manner on the floor. However, if my bag was in the way, I am sorry, but really, you could have done something decidedly less repugnant than kicking my foot.
Perhaps such skills of reason are beyond you. After all, you did decide to wear those fugly sunglasses indoors, a decision which would make me think that your reasoning capabilities are minimal at best. Maybe the glasses limited your vision. Or maybe it was the fact that you are a base, degenerate, cattle-molesting idiot. Nonetheless, you kicked me, a 25 year old woman, hard on my foot, and then you ran off.
Were you in a hurry? Maybe you had a GO train to catch at Union station. If you did, then I sincerely hope you missed it - and I hope that you got even more annoyed as you waited for the next one to come, which I hope was an excruciatingly long time. What was the nature of your hurry? Maybe you had loved ones at home you were eager to get to. Although, in your case, I'd guess that the term "loved one" is probably in reference to your left hand and a bit of lotion--a small bit of lotion.
Did you feel like a big man after you kicked me? After all, men who kick sleeping young women on trains are real men indeed. I'm sure your desire to kick me was no doubt due to your desire to show the world that you are (in spite of the deficiencies down there that you've made it obvious that you have) a man. And your follow through in actually delivering the kick to a sleeping young woman shows the world fully just how disgusting of a man you are.
Seriously, I've come across decomposing goat carcasses that are less offensive than you are. Maybe you wouldn't be such a violent loser if your father didn't screw a plant and raised a blooming idiot such as yourself, you jerk.
Pain that you inflicted on my foot aside, what you did was revolting. I felt as though I had been assaulted. If the kick was accidental, you would have said you were sorry. But you didn't, you ran off after what the other passengers verified was a deliberate and planned kick.
In any case, jerk, I'd like to hear from you and hear your side of the story. Write to me at firstname.lastname@example.org.