Four Legs Good, Two Legs Maaad.

Several years ago I became aware of a distinct difference in the types of drivers that utilize the highways and byways in that little backwater country called America. For the sake of myself, and anybody that actually reads a fucking thing I write I will distinguish between only two types of drivers. This is not merely for the reason that I see the world as either black or white, but because through logic one should be able to discern that there can only be two types of drivers: those that have a destination and those that are causing the heads of those people with a destination to spontaneously explode due to the ineptitude, thoughtlessness, and discourteousness of the latter type of driver.

This distinction has become much clearer to me recently because I do much more taking of people to and fro than I did at other times in my life. I generally depart for my destination early enough so that I, or we, will arrive with time to spare. This has not always been a behavioral characteristic of mine. There was a time, which I imagine many people share in common with me, at which I just showed up somewhere around the time I indicated I would arrive. My time of arrival could be early or late – it was quite inconsequential to me. Although I was rather thoughtless of those that may be awaiting my arrival, it was never a life or death situation, I nonetheless had a destination and drove in accordance as one would drive if they had a predetermined endpoint. My current environment does not permit such leeway as I once had when coming or going to here or there. By now, you may be wondering to yourself what in the fuck is this dick babbling on about. I suppose I have given you enough of a background story to plod on to the crux of this post.

As I was saying, there are two types of drivers. Those people with a destination and those people that appear to drive with their heads up their asses. I can only imagine the great difficulties those people must endure while driving with their heads firmly inserted in their shithole. I can attest, being a member of those drivers with destinations, that the drivers meandering about on the roads without a care in the world, completely oblivious to their surroundings, cause those of us with a purpose many difficulties.

The drivers without destinations seem to exhibit many traits, and these are in no particular order of annoyance. First up, turn signals or if you are in England indicators. (I personally prefer “turn signals” because those two words combined actually indicate the meaning of the usage of the phrase; whereas, “indicator” could mean any light indicating anything. But enough about my brief foray into linguistics.) Why the fuck do you goddamned sheep find it impossible to move your limp wristed cock strokers three inches away from the steering wheel in order to indicate to those unfortunate drivers behind or to the side of you that you in fact do know why you woke up, got into your automobile, started the engine, pulled out of the car park, garage, or wherever you store your vehicle, placed it into gear, and began driving amongst the portion of the population that know where the fuck they are going? Why is this so difficult? My assertion is that the brains of these sheep did not develop that area which is responsible for courtesy and common sense. Are you even remotely aware that the metal body wrapped around your fat American ass weighs at least a ton, probably more if you are driving one of the ostentatious, petrol guzzling autos that Americans are so fond of operating, or that there are other people around you that may be walking, cycling, or – Oh, my! – driving? My only desire is that on one of the many occasions you don’t utilize your turn signal (because this is a habitual thing, just as is utilizing ones turn signal regularly) somebody in a much more pretentious vehicle with a driver that also doesn’t utilize his turn signal rear-ends your automobile killing the drivers of both vehicles and their entire families. Dear readers, please, keep in mind that I always allow myself to have plenty of time to arrive at my destination. I am generally in no hurry to get to the end point of my travels. But here is the point: Why should some fucking breeder delay me while he or she decides where in the fuck he or she is going? You should have known where the fuck you were going before you put the key in the goddamned ignition! So next time you are compelled to drive in your meandering, don’t know where the fuck your pointless existence is taking you manner, do me, and the rest of the fucking people on the road with a goal, a favor and stay at home and eat a fucking shotgun!

Secondly, what is so difficult about depressing the gas petal in such a manner that your automobile is propelled to the point that it and you are moving at the “Speed Limit”? And now I will go on another brief foray into linguistics. The term “Speed Limit” means the maximum speed at which a vehicle may legally travel on a particular stretch of road. Linguistics foray over! I can assure my readers that I am not a stickler when it comes to obeying the laws – hence my promotion of anarchy. I never acquiesced my ideals of right and wrong to some authority I never appointed over me. Merely because I was born in a place does not give you the authority to adjudicate and dictate your principles and laws and administer them unto me. So go fuck yourself! Unfortunately, for me to bring about the changes I see necessary on this planet I need access to a power that I do not possess. Therefore, I am playing by the rules – for now. Anyway, I digress. This is another issue of discourteousness, ineptitude, and thoughtlessness that seems to be characteristic of at least 50% of the sheep behind the steering wheels of cars. I, for instance drive the “Speed Limit” on certain stretches of road that I deem necessary in order to not have to talk to a pig. (I dislike their snouts, and the foul smell of hypocrisy that they emit.) For instance when driving through a “School Zone” I obey the “Speed Limit”, because running children over just seems a bit mean even to me; although I have not quite yet determined why a “Speed Limit” is needed in these “School Zone” areas because the reality is (at least where I reside) that these fat, lazy, spoiled little cunt turds are unable to fucking walk themselves to school, because that would require them to go on a diet and it would also entail the moving of their limbs. Anyway, that is enough of that line of misanthropy and onto another concern regarding the same fucking problem. If a driver is unable to do at least the “Speed Limit”, if not faster, that person is obviously as thoughtless as a plank. This type of sheep is too goddamned busy making certain his or her cell phone is properly adhered to his or her ear so that he or she can bleat on endlessly to some other equally useless person about the appointment they have later in the day to get a manicure. I would like to be your manicurist for that day in order to gouge out your eyes with cuticle scissors and perforate your eardrum with a metal nail file. These drivers need to realize that there are other people driving that have a destination and they would like to make it to that end point alive, and not be involved in an accident caused by the inability of some cell phone wielding, cunt turd producing idiot to pay attention to the fucking road. (I apologize if it seems as if I am singling out the women as the main sex that talk on cell phones and drive at the same time. Men do it too, and they are actually 10 times more fucking stupid than women that do it, because in general, men have common sense.) The next time you find yourself dawdling, please depress the accelerator just enough to obtain the “Speed Limit” it will make some of us with a place to get to a bit less likely to maim you at your next manicure appointment.

Finally there are the overly courteous drivers, which really makes them discourteous drivers, that permit people to turn out of a driveway or parking area while you, the driver with a destination, is forced to wait while the fucking idiot that should be waiting until the traffic clears is permitted to actually obtain a place at the front of the line. What in the fuck makes either of the drivers of the two vehicles in this vehicular exchange of putrid faux kindness think that the piece of shit attempting to – what basically amounts to cutting in line, has the right to be in front of me who is waiting patiently to reach his appointment with an assassin to execute both of the fucking discourteous pieces of sheep shit? When you look in the rear view mirror do you see a kind-hearted patient person wiling away his time with nothing better to do than sit at a traffic light while you glad-hand some fucking piece of shit that is in such a hurry to get to a place he or she doesn’t even know the location of that you would risk your life to make your little happy parts tingle with joy at the good deed you just committed? The drivers and passengers of both of those vehicles should be dragged from their cars, cemented cell phones torn away from their ears and bludgeoned to death with them. Smile with kindness about that you two useless fucks!

In summary: learn to fucking show some goddamned courtesy to the other people around you be they pedestrians, cyclists, or motorists or one day you may encounter an individual who has had enough of not having health care, of having no retirement fund, of having no control over the ass raping he received by the Wall St. whores, who can do nothing about the rich plundering the globe for every last resource, who lives in the back seat of his car because that is all he has left other than his shotgun, and he may be in a particularly foul mood that day because his only companion Jack the Irish Setter died of starvation earlier that day. And you thoughtless, ignorant, selfish, discourteous, sheep may find yourself and your passengers on the other end of that shotgun.

Fuck! You Are All Sheep.