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Sunday, August 20

Ranty Aunty Annti's Rules Of The Road

Okay, look, I know that there are billions of things more important than "courtesy" or "civilized behavior" on our nation's highways and byways. I know that there are thousands of people being murdered right this minute by corrupt governments in pointless, illegal wars.

But I have GOT to get a few things off of my chest.

Thusly, here's Annti's Commandments Of The Road:

1. If you go to McDonald's drive-thru and DON'T ALREADY KNOW WHAT THEY SELL THERE, then you're not allowed to use the drive-thru lane. People in Lower Slobovia know the McD's menu by heart, it's not like there's any DIFFERENCE between the menu items, anyway, it's the same crap they've always sold, just with different marketing and packaging. So if you get to the menu board and have to READ THE ENTIRE FUCKING THING before you can bring yourself to make this crucial decision, GET OUT AND GO INTO THE FUCKING BUILDING. And anybody who thinks that it's "cute" or "instructional" to let your SIXTEEN SCREAMING FUCKTARDED KIDS PLACE THEIR OWN ORDERS, then the person in line behind you will then be entitled to drag you out of your Ford Envirostomper and beat you with a tire tool until you are no longer capable of breeding more obnoxious brats.

2. No more SUVs. Especially for 5-foot-tall, 90-pound yuppie bitches who want to feel "tough" by driving three tons of overpriced vehicle that gets about 5 mpg and puts off worse emissions than Dow Chemical. NOBODY but Mormons has enough kids to justify driving anything that fucking big, and they're already cleaning out the USDA coffers by abusing the food stamps, WIC, welfare, Medicare and Medicaid programs, so NO MORE FREEBIES FOR THE MORMONS. And no, they can't have SUVs, either. They want to return to the 18oo's? Let 'em ride a mule-pulled buckboard. Any yuppie scum who need to overcompensate for their short penises, tiny angry-dwarf bodies, lack of parental approval, or the self-loathing that forces them to compare themselves to others via consumerist waste --- well, fuck 'em, let them drive Gremlins and work the rest of it out with their therapists.

3. NO MORE CITY TRUCKS. Y'all know the ones that I mean. Anybody who puts too much chrome, oversized shiny rims, ground effects, air dams or scoops, or sparkly paint & airbrushing on a pickup truck, or even THINKS about dropping it to the ground and using those extremely useless flat tires around the giant rims --- should be pulled off of the road and pantsed in public, so that their teenaged kids won't be humiliated by them anymore, and they will finally have to admit that pickup trucks are not now, nor have they ever been, intended to impress hoochies at the club, nor are they designed to stand in for sports cars or bling-bling. IT'S A TRUCK, GAWDDAMMIT --- SHOW IT THE RESPECT THAT A TRUCK IS DUE, AND STOP MAKING IT LOOK LIKE A LITTLE DRAG-QUEEN BITCH OF A VEHICLE.

4. Drive-by shootings shalt become manditory. No, I'm not endorsing gang violence, and no, I don't find that shit funny (as I lost one of the first friends I made in NOLA to crackheads who did a drive-by and HIT THE WRONG HOUSE). What I'm referring to is the right of adult drivers over the age of 30 to earn a special addendum to their driver's license, after a proper course in handling a handgun, especially while driving, and allowing them to disable and remove poorly-driven, poorly-maintained, and flat-out-fucked-up vehicles from the roadways.

Those 900-year-old, three-foot-tall nuns in NOLA that have to peek up from under the steering column of their 1973 Gran Torinos to "drive," as they call it? Take out one of their tires, and help them push their cars off of the road. Stupid-ass teenagers who are "cruising" when you've got fresh groceries melting in your car and want to get the hell home? You will be allowed to take out at least two of their tires, AND shoot up their bass tubes and amps, so that their aural pollution will be ended simultaneously to the death of their shitty attempts at commandeering the public highways.

Yuppie scum who talk on their cellphones (even with those obnoxiously pretentious Janet Jackson headsets and the little hang-cords that ought to be illegal) whilst planning a GOP fund-raising dinner, applying makeup, refereeing a fight between their two mewling private-school brats, trying to make cappuccino on the dashboard Starbucks attachment, whittling their contribution to the private school's Craft Fair, and scanning the stock quotes in the morning paper, all whilst inching their city-block-sized SUVs forward at about .5 mph in full drive-time traffic?

Take out their tires, set fire to the SUV, sell the kids to a Kathie Lee Gifford sweatshop, and sell the cappuccino maker at a swap-meet. Then peel the angry little yuppie breeder hausfrau-cum-"consultant" off of your neck and fling her, much like kelp in your swimsuit, at the nearest tree or trash can.

And, of course, perfectly healthy, able-bodied fat-asses who "borrowed" their senior-citizen relatives' TEMPORARY "handicapped" hang-tag, because they're too lazy to waddle across the Wally World parking lot, even though they're maintaining a cellphone call the entire time that they're shopping for K-Y Warming Liquid and Preparation-H, and then they park ACROSS TWO FUCKING HANDICAPPED SPACES, AT A STORE THAT ONLY HAS TWO SPACES?

Them, you would be able, with your special driver's/hunter's license, to drag them out behind the Wally World dumpsters, beat them to death with their Chinese-sweatshop-made golf clubs, sell their fugly cars to the highest bidder, then send pictures of the "crime scene" to their stupid relatives who gave them the hang-tags, and piss on their graves --- DURING THE FUNERAL.

5. Rubberneckers shalt be made a part of the fender-bender/major accident with which they are so obsessed that they back up interstate traffic for TEN FUCKING MILES. If it's a major accident, replete with blood, guts, gorged-out eyes and flying appendages that causes them to stop traffic, then the justice-dealer can only break a couple of fingers, starting with the middle ones. If, however, it's a mere fender-bender awaiting a police report for their insurance companies, then the justice-dealer (the first driver to get TO the rubberneckers) shalt be allowed and fully enabled to mangle, mutilate, and dismember the rubbernecker until they appear to be the victim of a Metallica bus wreck who was riding in the luggage holds when the bus left the road.

More commandments to come later, as soon as another nitwit pisses me off in traffic, which is a daily occurance now that this hick-ass two-light town has been overrun by white-flight republicunt yuppie scum from Baton Rouge who are trying to escape all of the transplants from New Orleans. Happy travelling!

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