Hawaii has no shortage of Karens. So here’s one for ya and this one is suffering from full blown Karenitus. The only cure, a fucking verbal slap in the head.
In an encounter with an unfortunate Karen, this specimen criticizes the length of the grass. Oh, moaning about the grass today, Karen? I guess when there’s no kids around, selling bottled water without a permit or families barbequing while black, Karen’s attack grasses stature. For fucks sake get a hobby.
Yes, everyone wants to opine about something. But when that something is utterly trivial and or lacking any credibility, you’re getting one of two things from me. In this case, both. A zero fuck or a well deserved slap.
“This is everyone’s grass!” SLAP.
“If you don’t like it, mow it yourself!” SLAP.
“No one’s gonna stop you!” SLAP. ”
“Also, Werther’s is on sale! Buy two bags. One to shove down your mouth, the other to stuff up that old ass cunt of yours.” SLAP
Because I care if your throat is lubricated. Wouldn’t want you to choke on your own stupidity.
“Oh and…” SLAP. Just because.
“Now get your 50 foot privileged ass out of the way, you lizard faced Godzilla.”
Cured.
I’m a joy to have in conversation.
We live in a post covid-19 world transitioning to an already Karen-23. I am double vaccinated with bladed hands. Ready, for any Karenitus and the Chaditius male counterpart.
Raise both hands up with palms inward. If you’re a Karen, slap yourself. If not, congratulate yourself on your immunization. Also Werther’s is on sale at CVS.
salt on my skin 
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