Sunday, July 10, 2011

The Crispy Pile Of Ash In The Front Seat Of A Prius

Why oh why must stupid people be given drivers licenses?  Obviously the tests are too easy or 95% of the people on the road would have failed and never been allowed to drive.  I'm fairly confident that each of the 95% need to be slapped in the side of the head with a large mallet.  There has to be a solution to the ignorance of these blister-headed idiots, and I think I might have an idea that will work.

To preface all of the comments I stated in the beginning, everyone has done something stupid in a car and when we, in hindsight,  think about those mistakes I would bet most of us would not make the same mistake twice, however...  There is still that small enough group of us that doesn't understand the mistake and will continue to make that same mistake, therefore those people enter the 95%.

As an example if you, as a driver continually make the same mistake (i.e., regularly back into cars at the grocery store), and cannot figure out why your rear bumper has so many colors of paint on it that Sherwin-Williams is using it to come up with new colors, then you are in the 95%.

If you drive around with a bumper sticker that says "I Brake For Hallucinations" and wonder why you are stopped by the police 50 times a day, you enter the category.  If when you drive down the street, complete strangers run in terror as you blast past them on the sidewalk, you belong in the 95%.  Okay enough examples, I'm sure you get the picture and I really don't want to sound like a Jeff Foxworthy joke.

Allow me to explain the reason for the post this fine morning (its 12:47AM so its morning), sit back it could get ugly.  Today, (well technically yesterday get over it) I was driving down Main Street of my happy little village of living Hell and walking down the middle of a one lane street is an ENTIRE WEDDING PARTY, shoulder to shoulder, arm and arm (which was kind of creepy), in almost some human chain as a photographer walked in front snapping away.  You might be saying to yourself "How does that involve driving?", keep up with me, you'll soon understand.

As the French Foreign Legion marched ahead of me, one of the "groomsmen" turned, looked at me, winked and gave me the obligatory douche bag response of the "finger gun" and after firing such a deadly weapon, he blew the imaginary smoke from the index finger.  Being the calm, wonderfully mannered and patient man (knock it off, I am patient), first I thought to myself "What I wouldn't give to see that finger accidentally go off and blow one of his eyebrows clean off" unfortunately the finger wasn't loaded so instead I pursed my lips and blew him a kiss then I was surprised when it became obvious that he seemed to really like the kiss, so I sped off.

The little burg of Hell in which I live is the destination to over ONE MILLION visitors a year, and for me that's ONE MILLION chances for me to want to climb onto a roof with a rifle (KIDDING black helicopter people, just kidding.  Sheesh) and they import their stupid driving skills.  Now lets "get to the meat of the potatoes" (thanks once again to Darrell on "Storage Wars" for that), after Zippy the Wonder Chimp became aroused by the kiss, I sped off and with it being a really nice day, the glorious "Tourista Stupidita" (that's pig Latin for "Stupid Tourists") were crawling all over the town and upon reaching an intersection with a one way street, I was cut off by a car in said intersection as they came up the WRONG FLIPPING WAY.

If, you as a driver cannot see a big FREAKING sign that is white with a big red circle in it that says "Do Not Enter" then you need to hand the keys of the Prius (who really drives those any way?) over to the trunk monkey because he / she has to be able to drive better than you.  Oh and when you realize in the middle of the freaking turn that you are indeed a uber moron do not, I repeat DO NOT give me that little wave over your shoulder like "Oh I'm sorry I'm an idiot", I already know you ARE.

Next, for the driver of a car so large, it could be a battleship, and you think it will fit in the parking stall that is so small a Smart Car wouldn't fit in it (who really would want to drive one of those any way, a bread bag looks safer), and you sit there for 10 minutes trying to navigate into the spot Admiral Nimitz then you are a moron and fit nicely into the 95%.  The same thing goes for the little Prius turds, if you take 10 minutes trying to fit into the crushed cars and dead pedestrians that the Admiral opened up for you, you need to be beaten by the trunk monkeys and dragged through the carnage then tossed into the same class as the good Admiral.

Now we have reached that point in the program that trumps all of those other things, and what has made me write this condensed version of "War and Peace", "brighting" me.  Just because you drive that little Prius, or Dodge Neon, or any of the other cars that sit 2 1/2 inches off of the ground and the headlights of my beautiful 1990 GMC van are in your eyes, this does not require you flashing your brights at me, my brights aren't on, they're just brighter than the candles you have.  The rear seats in the van weigh more that your entire car, and my van is equipped with one standard grumpy man (ME) and your bark buddy mobile doesn't.

If by "brighting" me because you are an idiot, be prepared for my brights, that's FOUR headlights, to burn through your corneas like a cigarette on a couch.  This endeavor of yours will fail, you will be blinded, I will laugh and you will pull over screaming "MY EYES!  MY EYES! as you pour Perrier over them in an attempt to relieve the burning.  I suppose you could try "Preparation H" on your eyes to stop the burning, but all that would happen is I would call you an "ass face" and you would be dumb because the H isn't for eyes, its for 'roids and only an "ass face" would do something that dumb.  Now for the solution to the problem.

Once, in a former life, I came up with a device I called "The Slapper", it was an idea that would fix stupid people when the called Technical Support but I believe I have outdone myself with this one.  When accused of being a stupid driver (I didn't say convicted, that's too much work) a device would be placed into the vehicle and the 5% of us that aren't stupid drivers would be given a button, and what a button it is.

The button would send a signal to the vehicle of the stupid driver upon doing something stupid (or just for fun) and that signal would set off a small alarm.  The alarm itself would blast the interior of the vehicle with 300 dB of Sam Kinison screaming and the vehicle would immediately careen to the shoulder and crash itself into the nearest bridge pier, utility pole, or large body of water.  Upon stopping (with one hell of a bang), the car would immediately explode and the driver that pushed the button would be allowed to drive off content and happy that they had done a good job.

Extreme, maybe.  Dangerous, definitely, Cool, UBER COOL.  Stupid drivers don't make me patent this, you know as dumb as the government is they would patent it and make it a law.  I will be rich and you'll be a crispy pile of ash in the front seat of a smouldering Prius.  Thank you for your time, that is all.

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