Assholes On Wheels

Don't ask me: I don't know why assholes seem to outnumber nice guys like you and me by one thousand to one. I suspect it has to do with the false sense of power and invulnerability assholes get when behind the wheel, foot hard against the floor with the accelerator between. That assholes also love to drink alcohol exacerbates the asshole-behind-the-wheel problem. They kill some fifty-thousand people in the United States of North America every year, and maim many times that number. And for what? For the "thrill" of being an asshole, if one can call it that.

Excess population causes humans to become homicidal and suicidal. If assholes only killed themselves, no one would give a shit (indeed, I say "Here's the keys, asshole. Go kill yourself on some deserted road."). The fact of life is, assholes know that they are a waste of carbon: they will amount to nothing in life; they have no reason to live; noone likes them, let alone loves them; they will live briefly and then pass away unnoticed and unlamented--- just one of billions of faceless human beings. And this enrages them. So they take out their rage on nice guys like you and I.

In a perfect world, assholes would all get together and kill themselves in one massive head-on Mack Truck-to-VW Bug collision. Maybe rent out the L.A. Freeway system for three days, and let them go at it non-stop until they are all dead. Then nice people can live peacefully on the road.

One can dream, can't one?

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