Wednesday, March 25, 2009

More Road Rage, Less Road Dumbasses

By, Roode

I think everyone the world over has to deal with stomach churning morning commutes. It's a way of life. It's pretty much one of the deciding factors that will ultimately destroy mankind as we know it. And you know what? I'm glad. Thousands and thousands of years from now, alien civilizations will piece together our society and come to the very accurate conclusion that the majority of human vehicle operators were dicks.

Can you see, Lorgus, Interplanetary Prefect of Rigel 7? You can tell by this artifact that humans were driving fuck ups.

I don't care who you are or where you live. Your commute to work sucks. It's not necessarily the drive. I used to have a 50 minute commute to one of my old jobs. It took me through sparsely populated areas of the state, rarely interacting with other commuters. I had to deal with snow, the occasional big horn sheep standing in the middle of the road, and long periods of time with my stereo stuck to easy listening.

I swear, dude, if that's Kenny G I hear, I'm so going to fuck your car up.

But, a few years ago, I changed employers. With a new position and a new series of ridiculous benefits, came a shorter commute that leads me through much of the populated area of the city. I've braved blizzards, sheep, and easy listening for years in my previous job's commute. I would go back to that in a friggin heartbeat!

It's people. People are the worst. Everyone; mother, son, father, daughter, is an asshole behind the wheel. I swear to all that is holy, most of these fuckers are intentionally being dicks. Last minute lane changes, sudden stops for no apparent reason, and some of the slowest mother fuckers I've ever had the sorry chance to be stuck behind.

I don't give a shit, sonny. I'm three minutes from death.

But, I'm not here to complain about everyone. My situation is not unique. Right now, as we speak, someone in China is yelling colorful Chinese obscenities at an ox cart that's blocking traffic. My beef is with one of these agents of suck. As with everything in life, once you put a name to your enemy, things become clearer. The hate becomes purer. The name of my enemy? Volvo driving Sheridan College alum guy.

Oh, how I HATE Volvo driving Sheridan College alum guy. He is the epitome of dickdom. He manages to fuck my drive up each and every damn day. Somehow, the forces of all that is motorway evil work in unison to place this dick bag in front of me. It's not even sporting any more. Sure, I used to say, "Hey, what a coincidence. There's that same Volvo with the Sheridan College window sticker forcing his way in front of me so he can jam on his breaks and bring all of us to a grinding halt. What a world." But, I see the truth now. This fucker is out for blood. It's no longer by chance this swing bag ends up next to me in traffic only to jam his car in the two feet of available space between me and the next car. It's me he wants. It's my day he want to ruin.

Redden the head lamps and add a demonic laugh and you have what I deal with on a daily basis.

I've wronged him in some way in a previous life. His sole purpose in life is to get me in such a rage that my day is obliterated before I walk in the office door. There he is, slyly looking in his rear view mirror with his stupid Sheridan College window sticker... laughing at me each time he hits his brakes. Getting a raging chubby every time he cuts in front of me at a stop light just to take a full two minutes to move when the light turns green. This is evil, my friends. It's Hitler. Hitler is obviously driving this car. And Hitler went to Sheridan College.

Switch the Mercedes with a Volvo and the resemblance is damn uncanny!

I'm on to you Volvo driving Sheridan College alum guy. I see the game you're playing. I know that as soon as we part company in the morning you drive around the block several times giving my car the finger while you slap babies in the face. I wouldn't even be surprised if you rubbed your bare ass on my car when no one was around. Shit! That would explain those ass shaped smudges on my rear doors. Diabolical!

It's on now, fucker. IT'S ON!

Sincerely,
Roode



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