From this week's I, Anonymous:

My sin was asking you not to cut in front of my son and me, and the other 10 people in the membership line, at Costco. You blew up and challenged me to a fight in front of my 3-year-old son. For the record: I am six feet and 220 pounds of sinewy MMA-trained whup-ass ready to spring. You are an overweight fiftysomething living the Joe Pesci Goodfellas dream. My wife asked me not to beat up any more guys like you, even if you insult my child and me by telling us we stink like the rest of our kind. I knew you wanted it, you fucked up, aged-out Zimmerman clone. I could tell by the way you kept reaching in your pocket, fingering the trigger of your gun while you followed me around the store, confronting me three times. Did you feel good intimidating my son to the point where he started screaming at you to "Shut up" over and over? The people of this city were so confused, they couldn't understand why the fit black man was asking the staff for help with a fat, balding chump like you...

Read the whole epic thing here.