I love Craigslist

I got so many emails from this little rant, I cannot help but say, "thank you". All of it's true, albeit a mixed story of events... gotta love us City Rats and "thanks" to all you that emailed. Makes me feel like my degree is not lost money. One day, I'm gonna get busted, though, I know. Then my house will catch fire. Please save my cats.


Let me start by saying, if I have the flu and choose to take half a bottle of DayQuill, three Red Bulls, and a sugar cookie for breakfast - watch out if I'm behind the wheel of my car. It's a total piece of shit and I could care less who I hit or vice versa.

That being said, here are a few rules you may want to consider if I happen to be on the road with you in downtown traffic at 7:30 in the morning...

First, to the two assholes who cut me off at the intersection of North Ave and Spring St. this morning. I'm so glad you sped through the light and didn't get a chance to see the "flash" from the traffic cameras. Just so you know, that card you get in the mail in a few days won't be a "Merry Christmas" from APD, trust me. I guess the four signs, WITH a picture of a fucking camera on it (just in case you don't habla english), isn't enough for you. Oh, and I loved the fact that when we got to the next light, I was right behind you. How's does it feel to piss away 2 bucks a gallon for gas and a 70 dollar ticket just to beat me to the red light thirty feet away?

Second, speaking of assholes who want to wizz past me and cut me off, ESPECIALLY at the intersection of Piedmont and Edgewood, I've got some news for you in case you missed the excitement. The construction contractors working on that site have no idea what a boiler plate is so when you hit that massive crater in the far left lane going 50 miles and hour... well, I can only hope you enjoy the new CV axles and front end alignment you now need, Shithead.

Third, if you drive a tractor trailer and have no manifest to be in the city limits, I will gladly report your tag number to the DOT. I really don't care if they bust you now or later, your tag will be on file. After all, if I have to sit on the Connector going retard-speed, so do you.

Fourth, if you have Fulton or Dekalb plates and you're traveling south on Boulevard at Edgewood, I know that YOU know the road changes to one lane. Do not pass me while I sit in traffic, then get to the light and think I'm going to let you in, especially when you don't even have the courtesy of using a turn signal. You know who you are, Skany-HoodRat. By the way, how the fuck can someone drive a car, put on makeup, talk on the phone, and eat a godam greasy biscuit at the same time? Maybe instead of buying those stupid, fucking spinning rims, (which are worth more than the car you're driving and the house you're renting), you might consider Driver's Ed.

Fifth, and this is pure physics here, Princess. Call it a backward-ass form of Newton's Law - If I'm in my car, and you are crossing an intersection AND you see a BIG RED HAND on the pedestrian light, simply put - I'll run your ass over. If I'm in a generally good mood, though, I may just bump it into the curb, all the while blowing my horn in your face. Yeah, something does work on my car after all. Sweet Jesus, are you colorblind or just a crackhead?

Lastly, getting back to signaling - that lever that sticks out on the left side of your steering wheel ain't there just so you can wipe your boogers on it. Yeah, I saw you do it. It's actually called a turn signal. Trust me, Bubba, if you use it, you won't decrease the trade-in value on your pickup. As a matter of fact, you might spare yourself the heartburn of me ROYALLY fucking with you in my aforementioned piece-of-shit automobile. I can, and will, run you into a concrete barrier wall in a flat second. Just see if those dumbass chain-linked fences on the overpass will save you from a nosedive 30 feet into on-coming traffic.

Oh, one more thing. For all you A-tow people NEWS FLASH: you are not NASCAR drivers, and no, it's not Disneyworld - no matter how much you want to pretend. Go back to junior high and drop some more blotter acid. At least you'll be too fucked up to have a job driving mach speed with other people's cars in tow.

Ahh, I feel much better now.