Gerta and the Laggin’ Wagon

I’ve talked about rules to follow when driving near me a couple of times; now I want to talk about a specific type of vehicle on the freeway that truly causes me to consider suicide by concrete divider.  There is not one other vehicle on the road today that induces more rage to spew from me than the minivan and its driver.  I would choke a bunny the fuck out if it meant I could rid the world of this monstrosity.  I know what you’re thinking…extreme measures for such a trivial irritant; but you’re wrong.  Wrong wrong wrong wrong…wrong!  With the removal of this burden of mankind, world hunger and war and Lindsey Lohan would be a distant memory of the past; remembered only as a blemish on the face of time.  How exactly would that happen you ask?  I don’t know, that’s not my fucking job.  I’ll leave that to the politicians and scientists; but I do know unequivocally that it would solve at least 10% of my problems…on the road anyway.

Melodrama aside, I have a theory as to why minivans suck to epic proportions.  The minivan is a safe, cautious and practical family vehicle.  The individuals jacking with my mental well being who drive these visual eye sores are middle aged moms and dads who gave up any attempt at retaining their youth and succumbed to the black-hole that is responsible and practical adult-hood.

Why should those who drive these rolling boxes of my traffic nightmares speed?  They left 20 minutes early in order to give themselves a time cushion should they come upon some unforeseen obstacle.  Damn you and your responsible thinking; not everyone chooses to be that much of a forward thinker.  How dare you try to push your ideals on me you progressive commy!  I will not conform to your well thought out ways; now get out of the left lane so that I may blow past you at an increased rate of speed and be only a respectable 5 minutes late instead of 15.

Also, I am appalled, I repeat appalled at your inability to take off from this red light and squeal your tires.  I need you to shoot out from your stopped position like a dragster at a race.  Come on buddy, I need to go faster so that I can get around these cars to my right and be the first person to stop at the next red light 100 yards down the road from my current stopped position.  You needn’t be worried about wear and tear on your engine and tires; Sue-Ann doesn’t need braces because her snaggle-teeth and busted grill add character to her beautifully pock-marked adolescent skin.  I say, enough with responsibility!  Enough with maturity!  Enough with putting your children’s safety first!  You are impeding my progress in my venture to hurry up and wait.  Because your vehicle looks like a miniature mobile home, I can’t see over, around or through you, and due to this visual tampon I have no idea whether it would be worth my attempt at dangerously swerving around you; after-all, who knows, there could very well be another minivan ahead of you.

Soccer moms world-wide, take my message to heart; I don’t want to be force-fed your grown-up ideals.  Live a little, test that gas pedal out, rev that engine…drive on the edge.  Remember before your first born, how you rushed out the door in the morning because you wanted to sleep until the absolute last minute; and you drove 62mph in a 60?  You were wild!  When the light turned green, you didn’t look both ways before you let up on the break and cautiously accelerated across the road; you just crossed with slow, reckless abandon. 

Or you could just remain as fast and mobile as a set of road spikes and continue to irritate me to no end; ball’s in your court laggin’ wagon.

7 Responses to “Gerta and the Laggin’ Wagon”
  1. Hey does the Bunny get a chance to TAP OUT? I’m just saying i like Bunnies, they can do some crazy shit on them poles! Ohh wait we are talking about two different Bunnies, shit i hate when that happens.

  2. PD Williams says:

    BTW – had to share this one on FB so my other leadfoot friends could enjoy 🙂

  3. PD Williams says:

    Sometimes I drive fast because I have to (Paula Standard Time = T minus “oh, are you there already?”). Most other times I floor it just because I can. There are few things more frustrating than a suburban momobile in the fast lane — in front of me. Is bazooka ownership legal?

    • graysonjack says:

      I love your "Paula Standard Time = T minus "oh, are you there already?"Now that is funny.But I feel the same as you, sometimes you speed because you can!The suburban mom-mobile is about the most frustrating thing on the road.I say bazooka ownership in that case should be not only legal, but required.If that were the case, the roads would be a much happier place.

  4. Evil Bekka says:

    heh. I feel the same way about minivans… but, you sound like the kind of driver that I would happily follow down the interstate just going 2 mph slower so that you would get the speeding ticket instead of me 😉

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