Sometimes I can be an ass. Usually it’s unintentional, which only makes it worse. I’m afraid I’ve got some innate assitude in me. Get me drunk and I’ll insult my husband’s boss, incite riots, and have sex involving vegetables. This isn’t hypothetical, people. I speak from experience. It turns out that even in the basic food groups, size does matter.
At this point, you may think that this post is going to be all about me, or I could go on a rant about Democrats (Motto: Worst mascot ever for a political party). I’d rather touch on a subject that we can all relate to: every other driver on the road except us.
There’s enough snow on the weather maps of the Midwest, that you can’t see the state lines anymore. You might be driving to Cincinnati and end up in Detroit without even knowing it. Snow seems to bring out the ass in other drivers. I’m not just talking about the SUV’s that go 70 miles per hour because they have 4 wheel drive. In there arrogance, they pass snowplows, stranded motorists, and vegetable stands.
I’m talking about the asses who will cross crime scene tape to get to the parking spot that someone else has spent 14 hours clearing; the idiots who will slide down an icy hill in Seattle, taking out parked cars and pedestrians to get their cappuccino; and the Amish. If I see one more horse-drawn carriage on snowy streets, it better be pulled by Clydesdales and loaded with beer.
Those people who do brave the weather go to the local Wal-Mart, where fist fights break out over the last jumbo package of toilet paper. Why do people who face being snowed in always go straight for the toilet paper? But I digress.
Something must be done to stop the madness! I recommend sending all the asphalt asses to the Siberia of the western hemisphere: Canada. There they can learn remedial winter driving, and how to say “when hell freezes over” in Celsius. America would be a safe place for courteous drivers and the Amish.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to drive to the nearest vegetable stand.