Texanation

 

I suppose other people should be allowed to drive on the road.

 

But….

 

There’s an obvious failure at the state level to create a driving curriculum stringent enough to prevent idiots, morons, drunks, elderly, Democrats and illegal aliens from clogging up vital arteries of commerce with their driving habits.  Driving habits that provide triggers for road rage among those of us who know what the hell we’re doing and just wish all you other twits would GET OUT OF THE WAY!

 

In case you were curious, I have compiled the following helpful list to illustrate my case for a driver’s test that would eliminate road rage inducements by eliminating the idiots from the road.

 

CAMPERS.  This individual arrives unto the far left lane, anointed by God to occupy said lane until death do they part, and to stayeth there, meandering at or below the speed limit, regardless of the mile-long line of cars stacked behind them.  The signage that says “Left Lane for Passing Only” and “Slower Traffic Move Right” must be the work of Satan, because we know that God has spoken directly to the Camper and provided the left lane as his or her CLEAR PATH TO HEAVEN and that they should be in NO HURRY to get there.

 

TINY FOREIGN PEOPLE.  The rule is, if you can’t see over the steering wheel, don’t fucking drive.

 

MERGE CHALLENGED.  You’re on a busy freeway in an urban setting, right?  You’re doing 60 MPH, which is a miracle all by itself.  You’re in the right lane.  You can’t move over.  The Merge Challenged meanders down the entrance ramp, holding clutched in his fist a note from his mother saying it’s okay to enter the freeway anywhere and at any speed and if anybody else is there, well, screw ‘em. 

People, the rule is:  Accelerate to freeway speed and merge WITH the traffic, not in spite of the traffic.

 

MERGE CHALLENGED 2.  You are behind someone, attempting to merge onto a superfast freeway., knowing that any speed under 70 will get you killed.  The MC2 in front of you is oblivious.  They just know that if they punch the gas, they will use POINT-SIX more ounces of fuel than if they gently and smoothly accelerate to a moderate speed and merge wherever the hell they want to (see above).  This means you’re stuck at 50 mph, trying to merge into traffic going 70.  Honks and shrieking brakes follow.

 

CITY COWBOYS.  A phenomenon particularly found in southern states, the City Cowboy, aka City-billy, drives an enormous four wheel drive, mud tire, extended cab, jacked up, 8,000 horsepower Cummings diesel powered Ford/Chevy/Dodge pickup.  It’s pristine clean.  Closest it’s been to a cow is when the driver pulled into Braum’s and ordered a milkshake.  The City Cowboy uses this penis extension to intimidate any smaller vehicle and tries to push the limits of the sound barrier on any road wide enough to accept both wheels, side to side.  He – and it’s always a “he” – thinks that because he’s got hisself a pickemup truck with fo’ wheel drive, he can vanquish snow and ice.  Forgetting there’s NO WEIGHT in the back end.  Invariably the newscast shows one of these City Cowboys going sideways and backwards on an overpass.  I laugh my ass off when this happens.

 

LAWN CARE SPECIALISTS.  You know who I’m talking about.  Eight guys in a pickup drinking Big Gulps, pulling a trailer loaded with lawn mowers.  The truck has six colors of paint, a magnetic sign, and four bald tires.  The driver speaks no English and can hence not read road signs, so isforced to amble along, looking for clues on where to turn.

 

YOU & YOUR PHONE.  Yes, I’m talking to you.  God didn’t make you capable of multitasking.  Only three people out of a hundred can talk on the phone (head cocked to one side) and drive at the same time.  And you ain’t one of them.   You stick a phone in your ear, and suddenly you don’t know where to turn, where to get off the freeway, what those funny lines in the street mean, or have the vaguest concept of the posted speed limit.  You damn sure can’t text and drive at the same time. Get off the fucking phone and drive.

 

DRUNKS.  Automatic death penalty for your second DUI.  No.  I’m not kidding.

 

HANDICAPPED PARKING ABUSE.  Okay, this isn’t strictly speaking “Road Rage”, but it counts as it’s in a parking lot.  There are millions of legitimately handicapped people in the world and they deserve every break we can give them.  Wheelchair ramps, close-in parking, automatic doors, all of it. 

 

But…

 Just because you weigh as much as a mastodon and can’t walk more than ten feet without an inhaler from your three-pack a day habit DOES NOT MEAN you’re handicapped.  You’re a fat, out-of-control, lazy pig.  Go on a diet.  Get a lap band.  And stay off the fucking electric scooter, which, by the way, is NOT A ROAD WORTHY VEHICLE.  A City Cowboy will not even notice the bump when he runs over your stupid ass for driving an electric fat cart on the street.

 POOR PARKING.  Another off-road issue that still counts as a Road Rage Trigger.  Ever see the [Insert fancy car name here] parked across two or more spaces, turned sideways so that nobody can park next to them?  An I’m not  talking about WAAAAY out in the lot, I mean one of the good, up close spaces.  Next to the handicapped parking.  Makes me wish I drove a tank so I could park it right on top of their Lexus/Jaguar/BMW/Mercedes/Ferrari ass.  Make a $150,000 pancake out of them.

 So…

 Please support my petition drive to eliminate these causes of Road Rage by allowing responsible drivers to install anti-tank weapons on our vehicles.  I plan to add a code to the Texas driver’s license that allows those thus equipped to shoot a missile right up your Camping, Drunk, City Cowboy ass in order to teach you a valuable lesson in sharing the road and driving safely.

 Please sign below, but for God’s sake, stay in your lane while doing it.