My friends and I come up with a lot of acronyms, moist likely for these two reasons: many of us are either ex-military, from military families, or have gotten the lingo through osmosis, and because we want to use fowl language without pissing of all the pathetic PC pussies around us. The format for this –and future — posts will be; acronym, bulleted description, short, then long, real life instance.
“PP” is short for “Porsche Pussies.”
- Drives and loves his porsche, 99.999% of the time it will be a 911 4S or Turbo, automatic. READ: the Porsches that drive themselves.
- Quotes Nürburgring numbers, yet cannot drive a manual, nor has he ever driven ANYTHING on a real race track.
- Instead of talking about the engine, transmission, etc, leads off any argument on the car’s abilities with “it was 6 figures.”
- Thinks the GT3 “isn’t a real Porsche,” AKA has no clue what a real Porsche is, or what the company was built on.
- Is scared to drive anything that isn’t AWD.
- College is the coolest/toughest thing he has ever done.
- Has a “CHP 11/99 Foundation” license plate cover on the back, has “XYZ Alumni” on the front.
- Is hung like a circus peanut.
- All he has to give his wife is money, because well, that’s all he’s got.
- Talks about how much “ass” his car would get him, if he was single.
- Frequently parks in the red with his flashers on.
- Acts as if he is above basic traffic laws, and always has the right of way.
- Often has designer dogs, because they are “hypo-allergenic,” really he is just too scared of a pussy to have a real dog around him, or his kids. As we all know, if the breed doesn’t end in “doodle” or “poo,” it’s a vicious blood thirsty beast.
- Drives the sports car, while his wife drives a luxury SUV, really just a glorified soccer mom van.
Short story:
While my friends and I were walking through a cross-walk on our way to to Fort Mason to enjoy the sun and celebrate our heritage on Sunday, this dick-mouth in a blue 4S convertible, punches it while taking a right through the green light. Being pedestrians IN a crosswalk, WITH a walk signal, we obviously had the right of way. This caused us all to jump back, and my buddy dropped and chipped his new bike that he had just bought minutes before. My buddy on the right, who used to own a GT3 RS and was a highschool pitcher, chucked his starbucks as hard as he could, nailing the passenger rear quarter, then said, “What a PP, and he didn’t even say shit.”
Long Story:
On my way home today– more on that later –I was going through the tunnel on Richardson/Presidio Parkway in the right lane, when this stupid woman, in her stupid Range Rover, with her stupid iPhone held up in front of her face. Why women feel the need to get on their phones every god damned time they get in the car is beyond me, but is it dangerous. I digress, see came completely across the line into my lane, these are extremely narrow lanes, mind you. I threw it in third and stabbed the gas going from 45 to 60 quickly, scrapping my back right tire on the curb, GOING 60 mph!
As she pulls up next to me at the next light, SHE ROLLS DOWN HER WINDOW, and STARTS TO YELL AT ME! I of course yelled back, and got “well follow me and my husband will take care of you!” I just looked at the sky and thought “THANK YOU ODIN!” I followed her up Scott Street into Pac Heights, as she pulled into the driveway of what was probably a $10mm house, this tiny man in khakis with Top Siders is standing in the driveway, next to a black 911 turbo, with his arms crossed.” I get out thinking, “please Odin, I will let him hit me at least twice before I rip his soul out and kick it down the hill into Cow Hollow.”
NO anger, no animosity, I’m standing in the street ready to smash this guy into bits. Instead, without asking any questions, he apologizes for his wife, and asks if we need to trade lawyer information, WTF? That is a PP, his wife just stood there fuming, knowing he didn’t even try to stand up for her, or even figure out what had transpired.
Now, go ahead and use it in a sentence!
