I'm a little slow today. I just switched to Sanka. So...have a heart?

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

An Open Letter to the Assholes who cut me off by pulling out in front of me, and then going fifteen miles under the Speed Limit:

Dear Stupid Fuck:

WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! I fucking hate you, and I'm seriously contemplating just running into the back of your Lincoln Navigator -- I mean, it'll only cost me a thousand bucks (the Bluebook value of my car) and then I can just speed off! I mean, it's Florida, right? The land of the Hit and Run? And it would still be totally worth it to ruin my car, only to to cause serious damage to you and your car, and both your personal and vehicular alignment.

Honestly. I want to know what the fuck your problem is! Why is it you can't wait the three seconds for my car to pass the point where you've been stopped, watching me approach for the last eight seconds. Why is it that as I get CLOSE, you decide "Ay! I have room, I go."

Guess what?! Ya DON'T AND YA CAN'T!

Now, if you were pulling in front of me to speed off and not delay my arrival at my sweet, sweet home, I wouldn't really care. You'd be kind of a jerk, but I'd let it slide, because you had somewhere to go, and you weren't in my way.

BUT YOU NEVER FUCKING DO THAT!

NO! It's always pull out directly in front of oncoming car, causing me to slam on my brakes, and then, you just coast. Just...coooooooaaaaaast down the street, minimal gas... sometimes you even just riiiiide the brake.

WHAT?! Eight milliseconds ago you were in a super-big hurry and now everything's changed, and you're just on a leisurely lil' drive? Just gonna take yer time? Easy does it... no need to get up to THIRTY miles an hour on this street... Twenty three is a good speed, maybe eighteen... Just gonna stop and smell the roses? Gonna paint your nails? Gonna call some people? Got some real pressing conversation to have?

FUCK YOU. I hope you die like all of the Characters in Saw. (Sorry, I gave away the movie.) You're a selfish, stupid, asshole with no concept of the other people with whom you share the road. I hope in your stupidity, you carelessly veer into the path of an oncoming gasoline tanker with fiery results. I hope you someday get yourself rear-ended so badly, while not wearing your fucking seatbelt, that you go careening out of your windshield, only to be run over by your own slow-moving SUV.

GOD. Really, it just goes to show how fucking STUPID everyone in Miami is... Now, back home, we have a deer problem. Everyone knows that Deer are pitifully stupid animals. And when a car comes, instead of staying where they are until AFTER the danger has passed, they run right into the danger, only to get themselves mortally wounded. What does it say that most of the citizens of Miami have the same retarded instinct as a stupid fucking deer?

Answer: Everyone in Miami is a fucking moron. That's right. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I'm pretty certain that per capita, this is THE stupidest city in...(I don't really think I'm in America, but...) America.

So, palsy-walsy, I just wanted you to know that because you're incapable of being a non-hazardous, and not-in-my-way stupid human being, I truly wish a quick but painful death upon you.

Oh, and in other news, I think my office building's management motto pretty much sums up the Miami work ethic, which I think is HILARIOUS. It's something like, "True Balance Comes from Assigning Realistic Expectations to Service Roles." Something like that. I'll copy it down tomorrow... BWA-HA-HA-HA! In other words, my office management company's logo is, "We're lazy and we don't care, your expectations are unrealistic."

Oh, Miami. You never cease to amaze me...