Category: Rant Humor: 7/10 Read Time: 5 minutes
First in a continuing saga of cathartic ranting about traffic assholes.
Most of those that know me understand that I’m the kind of guy that believes Texas has the most friendly people in our entire country. I’m proud of that fact. So much so that if someone refuses to display their manners in a given situation, I will gladly offer to escort them to the border of Oklahoma so that they may join their asshole brethren. I have found no other situation in life where less manners are displayed than in traffic. My theory is that people feel a sense of anonymity and reckless abandon similar to that of a child left home alone for the first time feels that he can do everything he would normally not get away with. I find this completely unacceptable and bully-esque (GW is not the only one that can make up words). One of my quirks is that I have always felt I grew up being treated very unfairly. That altered my personality in a way that has left me with an uncontrollable compulsion to stop unfairness in any form the moment I become aware of it. There-in lies the problem. I learned a few years back, that extracting an asshole from his vehicle and “adjusting” his attitude is frowned upon by those who wear a badge to work. This has severely impeded my ability to eat a good meal and have intelligent conversation for at least one night following said incident. So, I have had to find alternative means to at least bring to the attention of the vehicular offenders the nature of their offense and the fact that I, for one, am not willing to put up with it. I have yet to perfect my method, but, thankfully, there are no shortage of incidents in which I am given the opportunity to practice. I now choose to document these incidents in an effort to lessen the stress that they bring to my life (and maybe yours as well).
Today, a guy in a beat up van that could have easily had “free candy” spray painted on the side (but instead had his business logo on it) decided to be a jerk. Funny thing is his business was named “Honey Doo Handy Man”. I guess he gets his ass chewed out so much at home that it transferred to his business. Now that I think about it, he’s probably so bitter that he can’t legally beat his wife that he takes his anger out in traffic. Anyway, we are in the right lane pulling up to a red light. I am behind him. I have my blinker on and am leaning toward the upcoming right hand turn lane, but can’t get over due to the curbing. He stops with a full car length’s distance between him and the next car. He can see that all he has to do to help me out is move forward one or two feet. He looks in the mirror at me as if he’s pissed that I’m so close to his already pockmarked bumper. I barely tap the horn in an effort to respectfully ask if he’ll move up. He glares at me and doesn’t move. The light turns green. He still doesn’t move. He snickers. I hop the curb and pull up beside him to let him know that his lack of manners is about to be confronted. He asks if I have a problem. I said, “Yeah, you couldn’t spare a couple of feet to help me out?” He said, “I don’t have to move out of your way”. I said, “You’re right, you don’t. There is no law that says you have to display any amount of common courtesy. But choosing to be an asshole to a guy that is having a bad day does run the risk of having that guy climb into your van through the passenger window, rip off your rear view mirror, and shove it up your asshole so you can give yourself a complete rectal exam and be reminded of what you shouldn’t act like.” At this point, he muttered something under his breath, shot me a dirty look, and sped off. I may not have accomplished anything, but I did gain a slight amount of contentment (real word?). His choosing to be a jerk was rewarded by the fact that when he lays his head down on his pillow tonight, he will know that his bullying, jackass style of driving is not acceptable. He will also have to look in the mirror the next morning and face the fact that he figuratively got his ass kicked for being a bully. The fact that he realized that if he challenged me further, bones would break, made me feel like he finally got to understand a little of what it feels like to be bullied. And the fact that my phrasing can not be legally construed as a threat is just icing on the cake. It is my theory that accepting a bully’s implied challenge, looking them in the eye, and making them realize that they are extremely close to an ambulance ride will, at the very least, give them pause the next time they consider being an asshole in traffic.
Be F’n Nice or I’ll Word Rape You (blog written 2007 and transferred here from my MySpace acct.
Be F’n Nice or I’ll Word Rape you!
Humor: 8 out of 10
Time to read: 10 minutes (20 if you suck at grammar)
If you wanna see how to dissect someone with words, grab a pen and a pad, cuz this chick pissed me off.
OK, most of you know I get creeped out by getting a friend request without a message introducing yourself or something of that nature. So, I finally had to put something on my page. I chose to put it front and center at the top of my About Me section. Here is a copy of the text:
First of all, let me say that if you make a friends request without sending me a message telling me why, I will ask you. It kinda freaks me out to be asked to be someone’s friend completely out of the blue. I mean, you wouldn’t walk up to someone in the grocery store and go, “hey, wanna be friends?”. Usually, you meet in normal ways and find out you have something in common. Kinda like when you are tp’ing a buddy’s tree and run into someone you’ve never met tp’ing one of his other trees and then you both realize that you have the same buddy that seriously deserves a good house wrapping. Now, I don’t expect a disertation or anything, just a simple explanation for why you want me on your friend’s list will do. I.E. I’m your kinda crazy, you like my blogs, you’re blind enough to think I’m hot, or you think the following video about monkey lovin’ is as funny as I do. These are all perfectly good reasons to want me as a friend.
Now, even after all that, some people are just too damned lazy to read and send one to me anyway. I try to be nice but firm in explaining my “rules” for approaching me. See, some people believe that to be self centered. But I choose to view it like this: You wouldn’t stop by my house, burst in the door, and yell “you suck” at me while I’m doing dishes, now would you? Allright, then, don’t be rude to me when I didn’t ask you to come onto my page and check it out.
Here is a 3 email exchange in chronological order. I sent the 1st one after receiving her messageless friend request.
From: Joe Date: Apr 21, 2007 11:38 PM
Do you want me as a friend? You know nothing about me. I know, because if you read the FIRST sentence I wrote, you wouldn’t have sent a friend request without messaging me first. Wanna know my reason? Read it, it’s kinda funny. Then you’ll see why this kinda thing freaks me out.
From: Kimberly Date: Apr 22, 2007 7:41 AM
Well Joe you don’t know as much as you think you do because I read your profile alright and found it to be a little freakin weird and comical at the same time infact I had to read it twice to make sure you weren’t a gay cowboy wanna be,I came to the conclusion that your not a fag your just a freak.I’m not gonna lie to you,your default picture caught my attention,pretty damn hot but I browsed your photos and your not the total package sure you got a buff body but it’s not natural in Alabama our country boy’s don’t need steroid’s they buff out on the farm so if your wondering why your ball’s look like sesame seed’s. I tell you what you do with that friend’s request I sent you just deny it because I really don’t think I need an ass such as yourself on my friend list.
From: Joe Date: Apr 22, 2007 9:27 AM
You know, I tried to be respectful. If you’d read my blogs, you’d know I’m not an asshole, but that I have the unique ABILITY to become a very good asshole when that moment arises. Well, my chromosome depleted friend, that moment is now…. You said I don’t know as much as I think I do and that you DID read my profile (but sent the request without prefacing it with a message anyway). …. I’m pretty sure that any normal person could only draw 3 conclusions from your messageless “friend’s request”. 1. you didn’t read my FIRST sentence on my page, 2. you were one of those fake profiles that sends them out in mass in order to bring unsuspecting guys to a porn site, or 3. you’re one of those control freak bitter bitches that are bound and determined to do anything a man asks them not to, no matter how politely he asks, until one day they realize that their hair is shorter than most Marines’ and their best friend is a dumb beautiful blonde who happens to be eating them out. Yup, that’s your girlfriend, … and you know what that means…. you’re the dike. You know, the bulldog, the one who plays the man, I’m not sure what they call it in Bama, but you get the picture. You said you read my profile and yet you sent a friend’s request anyway. What part of “DO NOT SEND A FRIEND”S REQUEST WITHOUT TELLING ME WHY FIRST” do you not understand.
“gay cowboy wannabe?” Not sure where to go with this one. All I can think is that the typical Alabama male has skewed your point of view. You see, just because a man chooses not to hit on a bitch like you does not mean he’s gay. However, I’d rather fuck another man in the ass than be forced to have an intellect deficient conversation with the likes of you for 5 minutes regardless of how you look. IF that’s gay, then rainbow me up scotty, there’s no intellectual pussy down here.
You said, “sure you got a buff body but it’s not natural in Alabama…” If that’s the case, then I’m calling my travel agent and heading over there, cuz if a fat guy like me is considered “buff”, then I can clean up with the women over there. Hell, I’ll even bring the extra chromosomes you all need. And, (just for you), I’ll get drunk so that you don’t all look cross-eyed to me. Don’t worry, I’ll be good in bed….. I have a GREAT imagination. And, I’ve dated some beautiful girls in the past, so I’ll have plenty to think about during that horrible task.
You followed up with, “…. our country boy’s don’t need steroid’s they buff out on the farm so if your wondering why your ball’s look like sesame seed’s.” Hey, where’d the rest of that sentence go? While the boys were workin’ the farms, I’ll bet the girls weren’t in English class. Let me help you with your punctuation deficient vernacular stylings…. between ‘steroid’s’ and ‘they’ you need a comma (sounds like the word the Army uses for communication followed by the word that the little girl from the Little House on the Prairie called her mother – Com-ma) and, it looks like this “,”. Now, between “farm” and “so”, I’m 90% sure you need a semi-colon (you know, the word used to describe the most a guy could ever give you plus the word for where your head’s at right now) and it looks like “;”. Then, you need a comma between “so” and “if”. If you’ve forgotten the whole “comma” thing, take a deep breath and reread this paragraph. Next we move to “word” punctuation or what most of us like to call the use of the “apostrophe” (Two words, the first, “apos” comes from “appose” which means to put before, or in juxtaposition to or proximity, and the word “trophe”,… you know, that thing you get at the county fair for having the highest number of your original teeth out of all the beauty contestants there). One more shining example of your grammatical incorrectness is your incorrect use of the word “you’re”. You spelled it “your” which is possessive and implies ownership. Now, you actually may have been implying that I owned my “wonderings” as the word “wondering” followed the word “your” in your pathetic attempt to form a sentence; however, the great State of Texas hasn’t allowed it’s citizens to actually claim possession of their “wonderings” unless they patent them first, and I’m sure you are aware of this. So, you should have used the “contraction” “you’re” instead of “your”. “Contraction” (that thing most women have during childbirth that you completely missed out on due to them being unneccessary after years of fatherhood reamings) is actually two words that have been…. wait for it…… CONTRACTED into one. In this case those two words are “you” and “are”. What kills me is that if you would have used those two words instead of trying to take a grammatical short-cut, your sentence would have been better off and I would have had one less thing to jack with you about (not that you’ve left me a lack of fodder by ANY means). Please remember what your teacher said about short-cuts, or was the football helmet you wore to school too difficult to hear through? Back to your attempt at a sentence…. Now, this is where I get confused, because you tried to do an “if…then” statement on me. Which means that the second part of the sentence is a direct result of the actions from the first part of the sentence. This means that when you finally chose to use punctuation by putting a period at the end of the sentence, (you know period, right, that thing you missed in Jr. High, 9 months before your firstborn entered your pathetic little world) you should have refrained from doing so until you actually ENDED the sentence. Let me help you out here… “if your wondering why your ball’s look like sesame seed’s, IT’S BECAUSE….” See how I inserted the words “it’s because”. It makes a huge difference. See, it allows you to cut someone down without looking like an uneducated inbred. Whassamatter? Did Daddy need you at home during English class or did someone drop some Chlorine in your gene pool? I digress. To fulfill my example, I’ll finish that sentence for you with my ending in caps… “if your wondering why your ball’s look like sesame seed’s, IT’S BECAUSE YOUR BALLS HAVE ACTIVELY CHOSEN TO ABSTAIN FROM PROCREATION DUE TO THE LACK OF INTELLIGENT LIFE OUT THERE EXHIBITED BY THE CONTENTS CONTAINED IN THIS PERSON’S RESPONSE TO YOUR EMAIL.” See how much better your sentence looks now?
I’ll take a time-out here to mention to my newer readers what my friends and older readers already know. 1. I’m a nice guy who only attacks when provoked. 2. Once I start my attack, it’s way too late to run. 3. By the time I get done with you, you’ll be lucky if you have enough mental capacity left to slobber correctly. And, although I do tend to seam “cocky”, I do not believe it to be arrogance, for arrogance is an untruth. I rarely pat myself on the back, but I’m going to break my arm doing so right now. The entire past paragraph was devoted to ripping apart one sentence (and an incomplete one at that). I haven’t even started nailing her on the actual content of that sentence…. Back to the email…..
As for your claim that I used steroid’s to get to the size that I am, THANK YOU. That is the best compliment a girl could give me. I worked my ass off in the gym to get this size. Except, of course, for that pesky flab that is clinging to my muscle. I worked my ass off at McDonald’s to get that. You seem to think, according to your sentence, that I’m some kind of gym freak and not a true country boy. Let me give you a little background. I come from a long line of farmers, and over here in Texas, that’s nothing to brag about. See, farmers (or rednecks) all want to be ranchers, but can’t afford to buy the land and cattle it takes to get a decent start. My father’s generation was the first to attempt to fix this problem by doing something else for a living. He got rich first, and now, the only crops he raises are the ones that he needs so he can feed his cattle and horses. Ironic, isn’t it? Now, those muscles you see were not gained on the farm because we didn’t have one. My father was hell bent on imbedding in my head that in order to have a better life, I needed to get an education. Otherwise, I’d just be some inbred out there in the world with a dial-up based ISP, attacking random people online and showing the world how uneducated I am. OK, he didn’t say exactly that, but I’m pretty sure that was his point. Back to the muscles. He built the first privately owned prison in the COUNTRY, and, in the 6th grade, I was forced to dig ditches for that prison’s construction for $1.50 an hour at 10 hours a day. That would have been an awesome wage in 1910, but it was 1985. Sucks to be me. We even had to drive by the public swimming pool to get to work every day. Talk about salt in the wound. In the end, I was the only 7th grader to show up to school with biceps bigger than my thighs. I also made enough money to buy my first set of golf clubs and a 12″ tv. Golf clubs got stolen years later and the TV will be placed in my casket at my feet. (I F’n earned it). Soooooo, when you attempt to downplay my size and degrade it as “unearned”, please take a step back. By the way, I had the ability to be this much of an asshole long before I entered amateur boxing to be able to back it up. So, I’ll put my skills, both physical and mental, against any one of your “country boys” any day of the week. But be careful who you send my way, I collect ears.
Now, as far as me being on your friend’s list, let me say….. PLEASE, I WANT YOU AS A FRIEND. I NEED YOU AS A FRIEND. I THINK I’M GOING TO COMMITT SUICIDE IF I DON’T HAVE YOU AS MY FRIEND. WHAT WILL I EVER DO WITH THE REST OF MY LIFE IF I DON’T HAVE AN ELECTRONIC CONNECTION WITH SOME INBRED, DISRESPECTFUL, HACK OF A LADY IN SOME REMOTE AREA OF ALABAMA. OH, FOR SHAME…. FOR SHAME!!!!!!!
Unsolicited bragging to follow….. Besides, having me on your friends’ list would simply raise the average intellect of the whole list enough to crash the site. And, we wouldn’t want that, now would we? Hell, the people that sit next to my photo on your list would get smarter by osmosis alone. The state of Alabama might just pass up Mississippi at the bottom of the national average intellect list. Then, Alabama would end up wanting to give me the Key to the State. They’d bronze me and put me in some park for birds to shit on. Hell, it may even be the park your guy friends go to in order to find unsuspecting little children and wouldn’t that just be WEIRD.
Now, if you realize the error of your ways and want to apologize about attacking my character, heritage, and background, then we can make peace. If not peace, then it is war and I will move to step 2. You see, you chose not to read my blogs, and you should have. I have ZERO tollerance for rude people and you, my friend, made the list. I treated you with respect and you spit in my face. I will give you one more chance to conduct yourself with an appropriate amount of respect. If you do so, I will return to treating you with respect. If not, I will actually include your name and email in the blog that I am already going to do about this pathetic exchange we have had.
Oh, and just so you know, you have changed my life…. for a moment or two. I will now adjust my “quote” to say the following: “If you need a verbal enema, send me a ‘friend request’ without first sending me a message telling me why.”
Good-day to you. I said GOOD DAY! (reference “That 70’s Show”)
From: Kimberly Date: Apr 22, 2007 11:29 AM
LAUGHING MY ASS OFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
After all that, she has sent me another friend request.
I think I have just proven that you can’t even word-rape someone into becoming the least bit smarter.