I'm just wondering.... who the hell taught people in Ohio how to drive?? I know bad drivers happen everywhere, but honestly, this is getting a tad ridiculous. I thought I was nervous to drive on the freeways of Los Angeles, but common studio executive in his Audi is nothing compared to the fools I have to look out for here.
This blog, believe it or not, is not just a place for me to bitch about random stuff, I already seem so negative, so I have thought of a few suggestions that may help. And I promise my next blog will be happier. Promise.
1. Stop fucking texting. It's illegal now. Your phone is capable of calling other phones. I know it's trite and old fashioned, but do it anyway. It will save you from having to type "OMFG!" when you smash into the back of me.
2. There is a place in your car called a blind spot. When changing lanes, it should be checked. People could be driving in it. You could run them off the road. They could then track you down identifying you again by all the dents in the left rear of your vehicle (shocker) and then maniacally stare at you in your rear view mirror for the next 15 miles until you're freaked out enough to exit.
3. The left lane on a multi lane road is for the people who want to go fast. Faster than you. Get the FUCK OVER. If you insist on keeping your slow ass in the left lane, when I finally see an opportunity to pass you on the right, and I stare at you the whole way, at least have the decency to stare back and own your shitty driving. Don't just keep staring forward like you're some kind of stoic Walter Sobchak defending a human's basic freedoms.
4. When I am entering the freeway and you refuse to let me in, what do you think you are accomplishing? You need to let people onto the roads. Are you scared that letting me in front of you will cause you to be late for your asshole meeting? I get that you need to get your goatee to BW3 for some wings and the Buckeye game, but just humor me. Isn't it embarrassing for you when the person behind you or 2 cars behind lets me in, because you're actually stopping traffic now, and you look like a schmuck? Well... I guess if you were worried about how you looked, you would shave that hideous facial hair and probably take that "my other ride is your Mom" sticker off your Dodge.
5. When it is winter, just because you are driving an SUV does not make the sheet of ice on the road less slippery. Your car will still slide like everyone else. You just get more momentum going when you slam on your brakes because you see brake lights ahead and you are going way too fast. Slow the fuck down, you jackass. Not all of us can drive out of the ditch you put us in avoiding your antics.
6. Please pass me to race up to that red light. It makes it so much funnier when I calmly pull up beside you and stare you down while singing Kanye West.
7. Dear old people, I really love you, but.... come on. Stop. Call your grand kids for a ride. While you're at it, slap them when they try to text while driving you to Bob Evans.
8. Here is how a 4 way stop works: You go in order of arrival. If I arrive first, I go first. If we arrive at the same time, the person to the right goes first. We can sit here and stare at each other waving all day, but it's not going to get us to happy hour any faster.
9. This isn't really a tip for driving, it's more a tip for life: If you are driving a Mercedes and you have a vanity plate that reads something like "C Class", "My Benz" or "SL Benz", you are absurd.
10. Hey lady in the minivan, you will get your kids to the swim team or elite cheer squad that you advertise them being on via the sticker on your back window faster if you LOCATE THE GAS PEDAL. Press down harder. Please. I'm so thirsty.
I hate to be such a freak, but damn. Seriously. I don't feel like it's that hard to be a good driver.
Or is it....
Friday, July 30, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
This blog's for you! And you and you and... well, maybe not you so much...but, you!
I'm finally blogging. Why? Because it's fun to talk about myself and others. That's why.
Let's get some shit straight right away.
This blog is probably not for you if you strongly dislike the following: Cussing, tasteless and sometimes slightly racist or dirty jokes, laughing, women, men, freedom of speech, happiness, reading blogs, scattered thoughts, expressing feelings, Chelsea Handler, Tucker Max, Jesus, life in general and America
This blog is SO for you if you happen to enjoy: Boozing, sex, dudes, girls, making out, cute animals, roasted marshmallows, soccer (or your sport of choice, which should be soccer if you're a girl), composing "Top 5 people I wanna do it to" lists, enjoying life as it's handed to you, making the shit hand you got dealt better, milkshakes, masturbating, laughing about things that may or may not be funny, nice senior citizens, fried pickles, babies (non screaming), reading asides in ( ), metaphors, good/horrible music, movies, Los Angeles, Ohio, Michigan, friends, family, making up your own words, being good to yourself and others, bars, believing your horoscope if it says something even remotely positive, having feelings, bitching about bad drivers, happy hour and America.
I will try to be kind. Everyone discussed will have a fake name or a nickname unless you're Adam H. Newman. Why does Adam not get spared? Because I have been best friends with him for over a decade and I have still never seen him do anything too embarrassing (except for growing that moustache) or too awful (aside for killing that seagull on the beach) that would warrant a secret blog identity. If you got a fake name, know it's you, and want to claim it, do so. I won't even be mad, I'll be impressed. Whatever. The fake names will change at random as well. Locations may also be slightly fibbed about. There could be little lies at any turn. It's a fucking party now!
The blog could be one sentence long about something dumb I saw that day, they could be lists of my random thoughts, an existing fan favorite, or they could be pages long rants on the injustices of life. They are never meant to offend unless stated as so. I love my friends and family and most people I surround myself with. I don't aim to disappoint people or call anyone out. I would just like to apologize now, in advance, for all the times this will inevitably happen. I see very little point in having to write "kidding!" after half of my sentences because most people who read this will know me and understand that I mean no harm. Unless I mean harm. And I will clearly state that. Watch out, demon sluts of the Midwest. Anyway, apologies are for p-words. Moving on.
I am a woman in my 30's who has moved back and forth from the Midwest, where I fail hard at life, to Los Angeles, where I had more success than I deserved. Life has provided me with a lot to write about. So, grow some thick skin, crack yourself a can of Busch Light (if you're in Michigan), order that dollar domestic bottle (if you're in Ohio and probably at Bar Louie), pour that properly aired glass of Pinot Noir (if you're in LA and think too highly of yourself and your beverages) or take that shot of liquid cocaine (if you're my roommate) and join me on my journey through life. I hope you enjoy reading this. Or don't, you dumb fuck. If you like it, tell me so. If you don't, shut the front door. Nobody cares.
Or do they....
Let's get some shit straight right away.
This blog is probably not for you if you strongly dislike the following: Cussing, tasteless and sometimes slightly racist or dirty jokes, laughing, women, men, freedom of speech, happiness, reading blogs, scattered thoughts, expressing feelings, Chelsea Handler, Tucker Max, Jesus, life in general and America
This blog is SO for you if you happen to enjoy: Boozing, sex, dudes, girls, making out, cute animals, roasted marshmallows, soccer (or your sport of choice, which should be soccer if you're a girl), composing "Top 5 people I wanna do it to" lists, enjoying life as it's handed to you, making the shit hand you got dealt better, milkshakes, masturbating, laughing about things that may or may not be funny, nice senior citizens, fried pickles, babies (non screaming), reading asides in ( ), metaphors, good/horrible music, movies, Los Angeles, Ohio, Michigan, friends, family, making up your own words, being good to yourself and others, bars, believing your horoscope if it says something even remotely positive, having feelings, bitching about bad drivers, happy hour and America.
I will try to be kind. Everyone discussed will have a fake name or a nickname unless you're Adam H. Newman. Why does Adam not get spared? Because I have been best friends with him for over a decade and I have still never seen him do anything too embarrassing (except for growing that moustache) or too awful (aside for killing that seagull on the beach) that would warrant a secret blog identity. If you got a fake name, know it's you, and want to claim it, do so. I won't even be mad, I'll be impressed. Whatever. The fake names will change at random as well. Locations may also be slightly fibbed about. There could be little lies at any turn. It's a fucking party now!
The blog could be one sentence long about something dumb I saw that day, they could be lists of my random thoughts, an existing fan favorite, or they could be pages long rants on the injustices of life. They are never meant to offend unless stated as so. I love my friends and family and most people I surround myself with. I don't aim to disappoint people or call anyone out. I would just like to apologize now, in advance, for all the times this will inevitably happen. I see very little point in having to write "kidding!" after half of my sentences because most people who read this will know me and understand that I mean no harm. Unless I mean harm. And I will clearly state that. Watch out, demon sluts of the Midwest. Anyway, apologies are for p-words. Moving on.
I am a woman in my 30's who has moved back and forth from the Midwest, where I fail hard at life, to Los Angeles, where I had more success than I deserved. Life has provided me with a lot to write about. So, grow some thick skin, crack yourself a can of Busch Light (if you're in Michigan), order that dollar domestic bottle (if you're in Ohio and probably at Bar Louie), pour that properly aired glass of Pinot Noir (if you're in LA and think too highly of yourself and your beverages) or take that shot of liquid cocaine (if you're my roommate) and join me on my journey through life. I hope you enjoy reading this. Or don't, you dumb fuck. If you like it, tell me so. If you don't, shut the front door. Nobody cares.
Or do they....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)