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| - It's a new year. And in Scottsdale Arizona that can only mean one thing.
Old, fat, white guys from all over the country will soon be making their annual pilgrimage here for what can only be hailed as the ultimate testosterone-fueled event of the season; The Barrett Jackson Classic Car Auction.
You've heard the term 'fat-cats' before?
Well now's your chance to see what one looks like up close and in person as they dazzle with their unique brand of elitist douchebaggery.
What do these 'fat-cats' look like you ask?
You'll know them when you see them, they're easy to spot.
Typically, they're fat, old and white, (pasty white to be more specific), wearing Hawaiian print shirts, Chevrolet ball caps, and usually with a dizzy blonde in tow...one who's tripping balls on vodka, red bull and Xanax.
And yes, they'll be the ones engaging anyone who threatens to even mildly imply they might have a little more scratch than they do by outbidding them, squashing their childhood dreams of owning that IROC Z-28 Camaro by not just a few thousand dollars, but more like a few million.
Folks, this is classic American debauchery at its finest as this cunning breed of socialite uses a classic-car auction to prove to the Barbie-esque dumb-fuck on his elbow how he's actually six feet tall, hung like a pack mule, and sporting a third nut.
Seriously, it's a fun event if you don't get outbid for that '64 Impala by some big fat drunk fucker whose girlfriend is egging him on. Almost like a fermented Dallas Cowboy's cheerleader, circa 1980.
I hate my life.
I can't even own a fucking '64 Impala.
I wish I was Rambo.
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