Driving No-No's

Cresting The Hill Phenomenon:

You're cruising along at 65 mph. The freeway is full but it's moving along nicely. You reach the top of a hill and suddenly, you can see hundreds of cars in front of you which you couldn't see before. Because you are now above the traffic, it looks like more cars, but really, its exactly the same amount as there were a second ago. So you slam on your brakes thinking, "Oh my god! Look at all those cars in front of me! I'll never get through all that. I'd better slow down." Thus you, and everyone else who thinks like you, have just created a traffic jam because of a false perception of a problem that was no different a minute ago, you just couldn't see it.

Okay, don't even TALK to me. I can not believe how stupid you are.


Rubber Necking

The freeway is moving along just fine and suddenly, it slows to a crawl. Why? Because someone has pulled over on the side. They're not blocking traffic, or even on fire, they just pulled over. As you approach you hit the brakes to see what's going on. Apparently you're life is so boring, that you feel it's more important that you stick your nosey face into someone else's business, than to allow traffic to flow smoothly. You stare slack-jawed, going 12 mph and hold up an entire lane while you rubber neck.

I am so disgusted with you and people like you, I could just puke all over you.

The Oblivions Go For a Little Drive

It's a one lane road and there are 7 cars behind you all going, well, we're going your speed, because we have no choice. You're in front. You're the boss. You control all of our fates. You decide whether we get to work on time or not. And you just happen to feel like going... oh, maybe, 28 mph even though the speed limit is 35. You're in no hurry, you've got all the time in the world. So, even though we're all about to lose our jobs, we too must go 28 mph, with an occasional slowing down to 19 mph because you happen to like this one house over here on the left and wanted to admire it's lawn jockey. We all hate your guts but, you're not the worst cretin that ever lived, just in your own little fairytale world, "La-la-la dum-de dum dosey doh, Look honey! isn't that lawn gnome cute? life is good when you're the only person on earth. La-la-la."

And I wish I could be there when the cockroaches take over and devour the only people left on earth.

Inventing The Right Hand Turn

You and your lovely wife (Blech) and your two ugly little snot-nosed brat kids are happily enacting the above scenario without a care in the world, when; Oh! It's the street you want to turn right on! "Oh honey look, It's our turn!" Theres a parking lane which doubles as a turning lane (that's why the curb is red) so you and your big fat ass car have all the room in the world to pull over to the right while you prepare for the biggest adventure of your life. You're about to invent the "RIGHT TURN" Wow! are you sure you can handle it, you trail blazer you? But since you're the only people on earth. You would rather not use the turning lane to make this ground breaking maneuver. Instead you slow down even more, to 3 mph and v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y t-u-r-n y-o-u-r s-t-u-p-i-d w-h-e-e-l-s and creep along with your big fat ugly stupid butt hanging out in the middle of the road (which you apparently own) for as l-o-n-g as possible so all 57 cars which have accumulated behind your lethargic plodding snail-like ass, have to wait until Mr. & Mrs. God decide they feel like making their right turn.

There are no words to convey the utter contempt and unmitigated loathing that I feel for you and your disgusting mousey little sniveling bitch-faced wife and your nauseating little devil-spawn children who are as good as dead if I ever see them crossing the street and I'm within a 100 yards of them.

A Sudden Desire for a Lane You Never Wanted Until I Needed It

You're driving along, perfectly happy where you are. There's a truck blocking the only other open lane and you feel like staying right behind him blocking the other lane. In your defense, you have left just enough room for me to squeak in and avail myself of the 400 miles of wide open road in front of you two turtles who have nothing better to do than to stare out your windshields going 43 mph, despite the 55 mph speed limit. FINE! I pull up along side you and make a polite gesture indicating that I'd like to just squeeze past and be the author of my own life now, you've had your fun. So with my signal flashing politely, I go to make my move, I'll be out of your way in no time flat, thank you very much. So what do you do. You floor it! closing that gap between you and the truck so now I can't get my wife to the hospital even though she is giving birth on the front seat of my car in the breach position, there is blood all over my car and my wife is in the most excruciating agony of her life. I know, because she is focusing all that pain directly into what is left of my only free hand which I offered to her to hold when she went into labor just before you got in front of me and decided to have a little fun on the road expressing your power and strength in your BIG SUV because after all, you weigh 83 pounds and yet you still manage to have a pot belly which is more than adequate to prevent you from ever seeing your tiny itty bitty little maggot sized penis. And you wonder why I carry a bazooka in my back seat and I've just blown you and your stupid piece of crap SUV, scholastic achievement stickers and all, clear into the next county. HAHAHAHAHA DIE YOU SCUMBAG!!!!!! DIE!!!!! Road rage? MOI?