Originally Posted: 2009-10-30 1:39pm
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favorite this post An Open Letter to My Fellow Commuters hide this posting unhide

Greetings, clueless fucks! It is I, the gentleman in the miniature toy car. You may be wondering why I have taken this opportunity to address you all so. Rest assured it is not because I revel in your sad sack, dimwitted company, but because I have made several observations in my many years on the road, which I now wish to share with you, the oblivious traveling public.

Alaska, and Anchorage in particular, is an interesting collection of upstanding citizens from all regions, affiliations and sociopathic backgrounds. Naturally, this diversity is often best on display on our roads and highways, few as they are. Our lack of a major freeway system doesn't stop you from showing your true driving colors though, does it? Heck no! In fact, many of you seem to have collectively chosen the four-lane Glenn Highway as your preferred personal proving grounds, particularly during the festive morning and evening rush hours. And now that freezing temperatures and winter winds have finally settled upon the Great Land, now is a hilarious time of year to really ramp up your blackhearted, destructive and/or utterly ignorant efforts to maim, kill or just annoy those around you to the point of road rage-induced coronaries. So let's get started, and take a look at some of the ways in which you can more efficiently make my daily commute a pants-shitting nightmare, okay?

1) Sit your retarded fat ass in the fast lane, and drive like you're stoned. This not only keeps the speedmongers lining up behind you safe and sound, but allows you the chance to make new friends as they're forced to pass you on the right, motioning wildly to you with various finger gestures. Don't be fooled! Those are just some of the friendly symbols many of today's hip urban youth employ. Be sure to wave back and smile, if you even happen to look up and notice that you're the vehicular equivalent of a blood clot.

2) If you're the kind of dumb fat fuck who already sits your retarded fat ass in the fast lane, then consider mixing it up a bit by suddenly plunging down on the gas pedal when the line of cars behind you is attempting to pass on the right. Show others who's really in charge of that fast lane by then slowing down again to the posted legal limit. This playful back-and-forth will really crack up the groggy worker bees behind you, and you'll take pride in knowing you're the biggest fucking douchebag around.

3) Dress up your vehicle. No one likes a drab rear end to stare at while motoring. Fellas, if you're compensating for that sad, limp excuse of a dick with an oversized hillbilly truck you can barely afford, then by all means hang some pretend droopy balls from the undercarriage. I know I chuckle every time I have to explain those to my five year-old daughter. But don't stop at disgusting and ironically homoerotic displays of fake testicles - throw in a set of smokestacks, extra large tires, or a sticker that proclaims your disdain/love for Obama/Bush, other truck manufacturers, a particular brand of snowmachine/dirt bike, fat girls, etc. Make sure to let us know exactly how you feel about the Sierra Club, how you define marriage, and what type(s) of animal(s) you hunt with your rifle/shotgun/bow/rod. Also, don't forget Calvin pissing on or worshipping something.

Ladies, we want more flowers! Big dumb hippie flowers that say, "Hey! You in the subcompact hatchback! I may look like another fat girl in a large SUV with a lazy 4-speed auto, but I've got sass!" Nothing gets my day started off better than being stuck behind another "organic Alaska girl", an Alaska girl who "kicks ass", or just some conceited trophy wife whose kids excel at their Christian charter school. It's a hoot! Also, don't forget to remind us of your lost loved ones, especially if they died tragically in their mid-20s while drinking/smoking meth/popping oxycodone and riding their motorcycles/ATVs/snowmachines. And you hockey moms? Let's hear it, you betcha!

4) It's Alaska. It snows. And nothing says "excitement" like being tail-gated in traffic during a snow shower on a slick of black ice, am I right? Sure, the tool in the Suburban in front of me with the USAF - RET'D sticker won't let me go any faster, but that's no reason you can't jam the nose of your '96 Legacy beater a little farther up under my rear bumper! Just because the blinding snow has reduced visibility to near white-out conditions doesn't mean you should ease off, Mario. We can clearly see from the rust eating away at every square inch of your piece of shit ride that you're local, so obviously you know what you're doing. Thanks for the thrill of potential death, though!

5) When in doubt, cut someone off. This is a solid rule of thumb that comes in handy any time of year (though it becomes more exhilarating when the snow flies). Let's say you're in the slow lane, but that giant fucking Lynden road train just won't move its ass. You glance to your left (or not), and notice (or don't) that I'm in my scale model car next to you, or so close to your left rear bumper that any lane change on your part at this point would cause me to suddenly slam on my brakes in horroOH LOOK you did it anyway! Now that's taking the initiative! Who has time for a turn signal? Not me! I'm too busy swerving and dry heaving! A well executed maneuver, sir, kudos to you. And now for the pies de resistance - since you've managed to cut into the fast lane, refer back to step one, and sit your retarded fat ass there, blocking the unlucky souls behind (especially since that huge Lynden rig is still lumbering along on the right).

Brilliant tactical move! You now drive like a true fucking cocksucker.

  • Location: Anchorage/Valley/Hell
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