MTA Statement: “Fuck It. Trains Are Done.”
The following is a statement from the Metropolitan Transit Authority:
That’s it. That’s fucking it. Trains, they’re done. They’re absolutely fucking done. We’re tired of years of planning, getting shouted at by Andy Fucking Cuomo and Billy DeBlasio and you god damn schmucks. So they’re over. Kaput. Trains are done.
We’re not spending 32.5 billion dollars to repair these god damn trains. Not for you ass-bags. Oh no, we’re gonna take that money and give every man, woman, and child a god damn maroon Jeep Grand Cherokee, two Darius Rucker tickets, and a box of torn condoms. Fuck you.
Remaining MetroCard balances can be redeemed for, but not limited to, fuck all. Subway stations will now be filled with glass and CitiBikes. First come, first served, see you in hell.
Be sure to try our new app. It’s called “pound sand, eat dick, fuck you.” 99 cents on the iTunes.
“Oh, but my train will be late.” Guess what shitmouth, my wife was late. I put that kid through state college. Pre-med. Fuck you.
Hey, here’s a billion dollar idea: walk. Move your cement fucking feet to 44th Street you godless meat husks. “Oh boy, but how am I going to go visit my family?” Well, if you want to go from Manhattan to Poughkeepsie, here’s a plan: fucking don’t. Stay in the city. I’m sure you hellbound dick sticks can find heroin in the five boroughs.
“But sir,” you fuckers will say, “I’m going to Ronkonkoma.” No friend, you’re going to hell.
Also as part of our Fuck-It initiative, Central Park will be renamed Fingerbang Junction and the new mayor is a rat from Gowanus named Sydney Pawleski. If it’s any consolation, this is better than NJ Transit’s new “Hey Cocksuckers, It’s Me, Chris Pissty, Open Wide” campaign.
Remember, the MTA is here to serve you. The menu includes a can of whoop-ass you pasty beanstalks.
You’re welcome to call our toll-free number to get slapped in the fucking teeth.
Sincerely fucking yours,
Burt McInerney, MTA Chief.