Finals Are Here
Hello, my name is Robert, and I am a driver. I drive. I enjoy driving. I take pleasure in making short hops and get giddy with the thought of making a long haul. I try to see how far I can make it without stopping. I continuously calculate in my head how far I have come, what mileage I am getting, my ETA, and average speed. I see alternate uses for 6-packs of 24 oz Coke. Moreover, I am a big fan of driving in inclement conditions. Snow driving is great driving, for me. I have complete faith in my ability to make judgments and traverse difficult terrain.
I cannot say the same for my brethren. For sooth, while you may think that Minnesotans, in general, would be hardy drivers, I have borne witness to the fact that they are not. It snows, they become retarded. Retarded? As in really slow and overly conscious? No... retarded as in... pull out in front of you and perform stupid maneuvers that wouldn't even fly if it was 80 and sunny.
Interestingly, the state and municipal authorities apparently do not agree with my opinion on this matter. In fact, they have painful habit of testing just how resilient our drivers are. Lane indicators: Completely optional. Not only that... but extraneous markers are welcome! 8 lanes of traffic going around a tight turn on the interstate into downtown St. Paul: You'd think some painted lane indicators would be useful... you'd be wrong. Driving down University Ave, it appears that there are about 6 lanes in one direction when there are really 2. Why? Who knows why?? They just put those extra lines in there for kicks! Either that or they assumed everybody was going to start biking to work on the same day...
In other states, changing lanes can be a pain because of crossing the ubiquitous lane markers. Not so, here! It is smooth sailing all the way! This makes sense, though... ya know, it snows here.
That wasn't funny.
A short list of bizarrities from the past week:
"Robert peed in the optical illusion": It is a long walk back to the apt... that enormous fountain is just so welcoming...*I do not have the herp.
"It looks sorta... metro": Rawked Feauxhawk... all day.
"We've been out of that for hours": Huh? Out of Corona on Cinco? De Drinko?
"Check this out": Dude... I don't even know you, but you just theived my drink. Check this out... in your FACE. Enjoy your herp.*
-"Where's my girlfriend?" -"She left the bar 45 mins ago": LIES.
"You look just like my friend. Maybe sometime I can show you a photo of him" - Perhaps... but somehow by "show you a photo of him", I think you mean... have your way with me. So Istanbul, huh? Not Constantinople, I've heard...
"You've never worked with tensors before?": Ummm... seriously, girl... this is a bbq. In America, no math at bbq's. How long of a flight is it to Istanbul? Ever heard of TMBG?
Thanks for entertaining me! Remember, next time some jerkwad tries to take your drink, I have your back. Never underestimate the power of built-in karate skills and a nice kick to the junkular region.
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Anonymous |
12:26 AM