1-800-bite-me

Don't get me wrong, I don't hate driving. In fact, without considering the redonkulous price of gas, driving is enjoyable. However, it seems there are people out there who would like if I did not consider it a pleasure. In fact, I think there are people out there who want me to hate to drive. Conspiracy? I like to think so, but in fact, it probably isn't. It is probably just a lot of stupid people doing stupid things.

I am going to begin making bumper stickers for those of you who want them. We have all seen the "How's my driving? 1-800-EAT SH!T. Well, if you haven't seen it, now you know about it. You're welcome. I want to make one for my car with my actual phone number. This way, when some dolt in a near by car makes me wanna kill an old guy, they will call the number to report my driving. I think I will answer and be super nice to them, let them know that we have been having some troubles with the driver they are reporting. Thank them for their time and energies. Then, I will use their number for a reverse look up and find out whose cell phone that was that called me. Since I was so nice to them on the phone, will they see me coming? No, they will not. I think I have given birth to a whole new syndrome. Intermittent Road Revenge. It's where I get mad at someone today, but wait and then burn their house down the next night. Plus, it is a syndrome, it is nothing I can help. I have a sickness, it is a disease. I am the victim here, not those horrible people whose house I just burnt down. They were oppressors. 78 year old oppressors in a in a late model caddy. Bastards.

Giving birth is tiring, but rewarding and fulfilling. I think I need a snack and a nap, and maybe a shower.