🚨 Don't Forget to Hate on a Cybertruck Owner Today

Let’s face it: Tesla Cybertruck owners are like pineapple on pizza — loud, controversial, and someone somewhere swears it’s the future. But just because it’s wrapped in stainless steel and Elon tweeted about it doesn’t mean we have to accept it into the car community with open arms.

In fact, we’d like to formally suggest that you take a moment today to hate on a Cybertruck. Here’s why.

🧱 It Looks Like It Was Rendered on a Nintendo 64

The Cybertruck is what happens when you let the intern design the vehicle after watching Blade Runner once. It’s a low-poly trapezoid on wheels. A doorstop with ambitions. The kind of thing you’d draw in 4th grade if the assignment was “make something cool” and your crayon budget was $1.

There’s edgy, and then there’s I-forgot-how-curves-work. The Cybertruck is the latter.

🧠 Because Elon Musk Designed It, and That Explains Everything

There’s a fine line between visionary and Bond villain, and Elon Musk pole-vaulted over it in a stainless-steel triangle on autopilot.

This is a man who said, "Let’s build a Mars colony" and followed it up with, "Also here’s a truck that looks like an air fryer." He’s like if Tony Stark outsourced product design to a group of unpaid interns with a Tesla stock discount.

The Cybertruck isn’t innovation. It’s a midlife crisis with LiDAR. It’s what happens when your main design feedback loop is a Twitter poll.

And we haven’t forgotten that during the big reveal — the bulletproof glass shattered on stage. Twice. If that doesn’t sum up the Musk Experience, nothing does: huge promises, broken glass, and a shrug emoji.

Oh, and good luck getting service. Tesla’s support system has the responsiveness of a Magic 8 Ball in airplane mode.

So no, we’re not jealous. We’re tired. Tired of billionaires cosplaying as saviors and delivering vibes over vehicles.

🛻 It’s Supposed to Be a Truck, But It’s Not Good at Being a Truck

A real truck should do truck things. Haul. Tow. Take a beating. Get dirty. But the Cybertruck looks like it came with a microfiber cloth and a note that says, “Please don’t scratch me.”

You gonna load drywall in that angular abomination? Throw muddy boots in the back? Didn’t think so.

And let’s talk about the turning radius. Have you seen someone try to parallel park one of these things? It’s like watching a battleship navigate a koi pond.

⚠️ The Flex Culture is Off the Charts

Cybertruck owners don’t just drive their truck — they announce it. On Twitter. At coffee shops. In line at Whole Foods. They’ll find a way to bring it up during a dental cleaning.

“Yeah, I daily a Cybertruck. No big deal.”

Bro, we get it. You paid $90K to cosplay as the final boss in a car-themed video game. Relax.

🧑‍🚀 It’s the Official Car of Tech Bros Who Say 'Disruption' a Lot

You know the type. They wear Allbirds. They drink mushroom coffee. Their startup is in “stealth mode” but totally going to “redefine urban mobility.”

And now, they’re clogging up the HOV lane in a vehicle shaped like a failed SpaceX payload.

🧼 It’s a Pain to Wash, Park, and Look At

With its flat panels and fingerprint-prone finish, cleaning a Cybertruck is a full-time job. Parking it? Good luck fitting into a normal garage without scraping half your house. And don’t even try using a touchless car wash — that stainless steel turns every water spot into a permanent insult.

Also, if you ever wanted a vehicle that makes children cry and designers weep, congratulations.

✅ Final Thoughts

You don’t have to hate Cybertruck owners because of who they are. Hate them because of what they drive.

It’s not personal. It’s just that when your car looks like a DeLorean had a love child with a waffle iron, and you act like it’s curing climate change — you’ve earned a little side-eye.

So yeah, don’t forget to hate on a Cybertruck today.

They’ll thank you for the engagement.