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To the rancid bag of dicks who sped your van down my lane of traffic because yours was blocked off by parked cars, only to stop in front of me and not move when you (obviously) couldn’t go further- fuck you. Fuck you for giggling with your buddy beside you as I waited in frustration for you to do the right thing and back up and get out of my lane. And fuck you for making me back up eventually. But especially, especially, from the bottom of my heart and soul, FUCK YOU for crawling your van beside my car and rolling down the window like we are going to have a chit chat about the whole thing. Unless you were about to tell me you were going home to punch yourself repeatedly in the face for the betterment of humanity there is literally nothing I want to hear from you. You are a shitty, entitled, self centered piece of shit and you broke my fucking zen. Eat spoiled mayonnaise. —If your spleen isn’t exploding now I don’t have telekenesis
This article appears in Mar 12-18, 2015.
The spelling of Emporer? aside, this happens in Halifax too.
I had a similar experience on the weekend. An old bag in an over-sized vehicle was straddling the centre line of an icy narrow street and charging through like a bat out of hell. I barely got out of her way. L’enfer, c’est les autres conducteurs. (Hell is other drivers.)
can you imagine how pleased they will be to read this ( no they will not implode in a paroxysm of guilt and remorse) to see how they ruined your day, week and perhaps month.
the gift of jerkiness that just keeps on giving, and giving and giving.
you are suffering more from a feeling of weakness, cowardice and helplessness because you couldn’t get out of your car and kill them on the spot. pray for the dystopia – you may get a chance to vent in the proper way. or then again, you may remain one of the nameless rabble that get used as punching bags by the tough guys.
You did the right thing. Just back up, let them through and get on with your day. Unless you’re steeling for a fight, just let the boors be in the land of the forgotten. “Rancid bag of dicks” that is a good one. Gave me a chuckle.
Get a horse.
So then the question becomes why. Why? Why would they have done that? Was it that the streets were so poorly plowed that they made this choice, only to find you there? You’re in Dartmouth; on a side-street…surely you have experienced this before, if not something similar. What’s worse is that the longer you live there, you too will morph into a Dartmouthian and adopt the dick-headedness that is Dartmouth. Before you fully convert, move now! You have been warned…
This post made my day, can stop laughing.
#freedom and a cat! just for you master and commander http://imgur.com/fjcYNkF