God Gives Me Gas
This nauseating offering was snagged by Bastard Joel at Costco in Burbank.
While languishing in an unreasonably long line to save a miserable 8 cents per gallon on a miserably hot day, cursing lazy patrons for taking their sweet fucking time, Joel prayed for some customer service relief.
Looking up and over the hood through the glare cast upon his windshield, Joel beheld this stunning revelation courtesy of the insecure bible-puncher ahead of him.
God will help?
No, he won’t. (He doesn’t pump gas.) And the license plate won’t get you out of a ticket either.