By 8-year-old son
Shut up, dad! The Beach Boys are bad, and so is your godawful singing voice! Your taste is not good and you’re making this road trip suck bad!
Gee, I hate you! We’re going to Idaho from Alabama in a flippin’ car! There’s no “Safari” anywhere between the two states and we sure as freakin’ heck aren’t “Surfin’” through it! You dumb, idiot face!
You keep barking through the words like our “pet” puppy, Wrian Bilson. Iit “sounds” goofy as heck and I don’t like it! I wish I would’ve known when you told mommy, sissy and me, “Let’s go away for a while,” you meant to torture us with your bad voice! I just wasn’t made for these times!
As if things weren’t bad enough, this road trip is being driven in a 1962 Impala SS 409 that’s making my tummy sick with its lack of suspension and “good vibrations”. I don’t even know what’s worse: knowing our car is a stupid gag, or the fact the backseat has no legroom! Major ouchy!
This trip isn’t “fun, fun, fun”, and I hope we never “do it again”! God only knows how much I freakin’ don’t like you right now! I wish you’d pull the car over this instant so I could take your flippin’ butt to pound town, old man! ‘Cause I’ll do it; I’m in great shape!
Look at mommy! She’s pulling her hair out trying to deal with your obnoxiousness! She’s goin’ bald and it’s all your fault! I hope she divorces you and you both don’t even end up as friends! Mommy deserves better than you, you big doofus, who’d rather hang on to your ego than make us happy! I hope she ends up with uncle Sloop John B!