I can’t count the number of times other so-called drivers have cut me off or screamed in front of me without so much as a glance in my direction. Maybe they think if they don’t look at me, I’ll disappear out of their tunnel vision. Only by the grace of flying squirrels have I been spared an air bag slamming into my chest. And while you’re at it, learn to use your signal lights cause I may be fucking mental but I’m not psychic you brainless turds.
This article appears in Dec 6-12, 2007.
