Because the novelty of anonymously bitching about things on the internet has not worn off yet, I'll give it another go tonight.


First group of people on the chopping block.... the handicapped.  Now that you've all left my page in disgust, allow me to clarify my previous statement.  There seems to be a condition in America that specifically targets this demographic.  Maybe he walks with a cane from the shrapnel that was left in his leg after his batallion parachuted into the local Walmart parking lot during the great Black Friday War of 2010, which qualified him for the permanent handicapped person license plate.  Maybe she woke up a few years ago to a pain in her back that went away after losing some weight and exercising a bit, but she keeps the blue hang-tag on the rearview mirror just in case the pain comes back during a super important trip to Krispy Kreme.  Either way, these people seem to think the rules of the road do not apply to them.


Today I was driving to school, just like I do every other day it feels like.  Sometimes the trips just blur together because the scenery is always the same.  Sometimes I wonder why my life has devolved into 10 round trips a week to and from this shitty state college that I didn't even really want to attend in the first place.  While I was or was not contemplating a thought such as this, a white crossover pulled in front of me as I turned in the intersection.  Crossover?  Strike one.  Get a real SUV or just buy a minivan.  The pussymobile then proceeded to do 38mph in a 50 zone!  It was then when I noticed the handicap license plate.  I noticed that the driver and her passenger were somewhat interested in my presence, as they kept looking in the mirrors and pointing at me.  Perhaps it was because I was 5 feet off their bumper.  In my defence, I was only that close because I was merely making sure they saw me point to the multiple white signs that read, "SPEED LIMIT 50."  So when the lane split into two, I naturally expected them to move to the right.  Naturally, they did no such thing.  Naturally, I passed them on the right and got stuck at the next traffic light right next to them glaring at me.  Do you have any idea how it feels to be flipped off by a "handicapped" person?  It hurts deep.  Probably somewhere down in the colon.


I propose that all handicapped people be forced to drive in the shoulder whilst using their hazard lights.  We accommodate them in other ways by building access ramps and outlining special parking spots for them in blue, so why not make them feel really special and give them their own lane on the road?  Other people who can drive in that road?  Me.  Why?  Because there's going to be that handicapped person who is too handicapped to realize he has a special lane just for him.  And so I'll need to pass him somehow.  In the handicapped lane.

First Post! Not like you'll read it.

"I'm a pretty popular guy."

That was me in 5th grade, the height of my popularity.  Back in 5th grade if you needed something done in your Pokemon Gameboy game, I was the go-to guy during recess.


College is almost over now and I've never been to one party like you'd see in a film like Superbad or the basement of a 14 year old high school student's house.  You know, the ones where everyone stands around with red cups filled with hastily mixed alcohol (never mix your beer and liquor unless you want to have a good time!), fucks everyone in sight, passes out from minor alcohol poisoning, and then obscenely embellishes the stories the next day to seem even more popular.  (Unless of course the stories are actually true, in which case I may be more of a loser than previously thought.)  But this is all socially accepted behaviour.  Unless you were the one who raped that cheerleader.  Then you just need a lawyer.  Unless you're the school's football star, in which case she was totally giving you the eye all night long.  You know she wanted it.  Who can resist you?  Clearly you can't even resist yourself.  Now stop touching your nipples.