I'm a grandma driver. I admit it. If the speed limit is 55, I'm happy at 50. What's the rush? "Ooooh, let's hurry up so we stand in line some more at the grocery store. Then let's bump off a pedestrian so we can hit more traffic when we get stuck behind the train one mile up."
Rex says the line between "safe" and "rude" is pretty sketchy with me. "You're so pokey." If I hear one more time, "The light is green. That means GO" he's gonna get a STOP sign rammed up his nether regions faster than Bruce Jenner's top speed at the '76 Olympics. If you don't know who Bruce Jenner is, then you're way younger than me. Which means you're driving faster than me. Which means you will probably agree with Rex and the lovely couple I'm about to describe.
I was driving the kids to school a few days back, and apparently my destination was not as important as the people in the silver Honda Accord's destination. They rode my butt for a mile, then blared their horn. When I looked into my rearview mirror, I could see their tanned faces stretched to capacity in frustration. "MOOOOOOVE! What the hell!" they gesticulated - looking more like they were passing a tough dookie than driving.
I was grateful we were passing Kaiser, because one of them was about to have a stroke. They finally passed me and screamed, "Moron!". Then they gave me the bird.
* Note: Good Christian readership, turn away now. I'm about to go celebrity on the paparazzi here.
I hope those arrogant pricks run out of gas on the way to their ever so important jobs as CIO of Butt Wipes, Inc.. I hope the blond gets a tumor from the peroxide and that her nails get imbedded in the back of the pompous ass she's stupping. I hope they know that despite their tans, botox and clean shirts, they pass more as fake designer handbags than attractive twenty somethings. I hope they get crabs - and not the kind you eat for dinner.
* Note: Good Christen women, feel free to return to the post.
I did not give the bird back, but inwardly wished them a pleasant day. I hope you all have one also. As for me, it's going well, despite the fact that Pip has a fever. Papa took Stink to a party at Chuck E. Cheese while she and I walked to the local store.
Well, I walked. She got tucked in with a blanket and was pampered like an L.A. chihuahua. We picked up all the essentials to get through a bad cold: Coffee, cookies, jelly and five Gerber daisies. Wait, that was for me. For her, we got a baby bagel and some oj. She'll be better in no time.
I saw some friends on the way home. Hi Mama K, Homemaker D and all the adorable clan you care for! Hope you have fun and enjoy pissing off the road ragers as much as I do.
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