Life's our oyster and we're gonna suck that bitch down with a champagne chaser.



  • Behavioral Therapist
  • MA Developmental Psychology, Columbia
  • BS Psychobiology/ French, UCLA




  • Movies to See:
    Mission Impossible
    Haywire
    Shame
    A Dangerous Method
    Underworld:Awakening


  • TV Shows to Watch:
    Portlandia
    The Life & Times of Tim


  • Book to Read:
    Game of Thrones
    by George R.R. Martin


  • Album to Listen to:
    The Black Keys
    El Camino


  • Person to Hate:
    Newt Gingrich


  • Group of People to Despise:
    Fox & Friends




 

Bitchin Links


Blogs and Writers of Note

Mary's Website

Mary's Blog

Ravi's Blog

Lauren's Blog

Cheryl's LiveJournal

TV Squad

The Soup

Cracked

Best Week Ever

The Chive

On Location Vacations

Cute Overload

Michael Moore's Blog

Joel Stein Columns

Maureen Dowd Columns

Secular Coalition of America

Richard Dawkins


Personal Stuff

My Facebook

My Twitter

My YouTube Videos

My DVD Collection

My Books

Machatz Self-Defense


For Politics and Political Satire

The Huffington Post

Salon.com

Politico

The Daily Beast

The Onion

The Colbert Nation

Truthdig

The Daily Show with Jon Stewart


For Entertainment

Ain't It Cool News

IGN

Rotten Tomatoes

DVD Active

Movie Stinger

AdTunes

The Daily Wav

Movie Mistakes


For Humor and Other Things

HuffPost Comedy

Funny or Die

The Lonely Island

Shit My Dad Says

F My Life

Daily Python

College Humor

Super Mario Crossover

People of Walmart

E-Mails from an Asshole

Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster

God Checker

Church Sign Maker

Strong Bad Email

Japander: See Actors Embarrass Themselves Abroad

Landover Baptist Church: Jesus Loves You Sometimes


For Bruins

The Daily Bruin

Bruins Nation

Bruin Basketball Report

UCLA Bruin Marching Band: The Solid Gold Sound

The REAL $UC Application

















 
Old Stuff
March 2003
April 2003
May 2003
June 2003
July 2003
August 2003
September 2003
October 2003
November 2003
December 2003
January 2004
February 2004
March 2004
April 2004
May 2004
June 2004
July 2004
August 2004
September 2004
October 2004
November 2004
December 2004
January 2005
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
June 2005
July 2005
August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
March 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
September 2007
November 2007
January 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
May 2009
June 2009
July 2009
August 2009
September 2009
October 2009
November 2009
December 2009
January 2010
February 2010
March 2010
April 2010
June 2010
August 2010
November 2010
December 2010
February 2011
April 2011
May 2011
July 2011





 


Photobucket
 
Wednesday, February 09, 2011  
Streets of Rage (and Douches)
The following is both a cautionary tale, and a how-to guide, on dealing with the road ragers of Los Angeles. It will, as most things in my life, be explained through the magic of the anecdote.

I should warn you that the language utilized in this story is crude, but is taken verbatim from the actual interaction I'm about to describe.

Viewer discretion.... is ill-advised.

Driving on La Cienega Blvd. in Los Angeles, at rush hour, is a lofty prospect by itself...but when a douche so profound, so erudite crosses your path, it makes the commute all the more... lofty.... and interesting.

Picture this: a Toyota FJ Cruiser (which if you haven't seen one is the most effeminate of the already prickish SUVs on the market), driving exactly parallel to myself in bumper to bumper traffic. The aforementioned girly SUV then proceeds to attempt to merge onto my lane, while still parallel to my car. I swerve away and honk. Idiot didn't see me, whatever. He then tries again, I swerve and honk, with emphasis this time.

Attempt #3. I decide this man (it's obviously a man) is homicidal or mentally incapacitated, and I don't want my beautiful car to be damaged so I will honk with emphasis while braking to a full stop while traffic moves forward around me, and the small-penis'd creature careens in front of me. With great serendipity, we arrive at a red light, parallel to each other once again.

His window rolls down. My window rolls down.

I get the conversation, which is sure to be intellectual and civilized, going.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?!"
"Fuck you motherfucker."

It is then that I think to myself that this guy is a white, past middle-age, douchedemon, with, at most, an at-birth education (that is, the intellect of a just born baby). If we were to get into an "Eff you," flip each other off match, nothing will be accomplished. But if I can openly mock him it would be oh so satisfying. Because believe me we had spectators at the intersection of La Cienega and Airdrome (what a terrible street name).

So he continues the conversation, whilst leaning out his window and has chosen to pair his expletives with not only the middle finger, but also the slap-bicep, lift-forearm-up gesture, multiple times.

I choose, rather than to match his bumbling ridiculousity, to bounce up and down in my seat, arms akimbo to my side, in an effort to mimic the ape-like brutishness of his demeanor. So, if you will, picture his lines of dialogue (because this is a theatrical farce at this point) with his gestures and my lines with ape motions.

"Fuck you, motherfucker!"
"Fucka fucka fucka fucka fucka fucka fucka."
"FUUUUCKKK YOOOOOOOOOUUU ASSSSHOOOOLLLE!!!"
"Fucka fucka fucka fucka fucka fucka fucka fuckaaaa."
"SUCK!!!"
"Fucka fucka?"
"MY!!!!"
"Fucka fucka fucka."
"DICK!!!!"
"Fucka fucka. Sorry I'm not gay! Fucka."

Green light.

Not to toot my own horn, but the look of bafflement and dissatisfaction on his face was OH so satisfying to me. It is so much better than exchanging some middle fingers and vulgarities then driving off, which really stoops you down to any given assclown's level.

And the coup de grace: As I passed him and he attempted to yell something back at me, I rolled up my window and continued to bounce, hoping that he would see in my exaggerated behavior, his own primitive behavior.

What I attempted to do that night, was cathartic for myself who finds the act of flipping someone off very demeaning to myself, and also, ironically, a big "Fuck you" to all the douchebags on the road, without actually having to use profanity.

Fucka, after all, is ape for, "I'm an educated intellectual and you're a maladroit neanderthal.... motherfucker."
12:44 AM
Comments

Share

 
This page is powered by Blogger.Humor Blog Top Sites