Jolt Country

I hope each one of you BURN IN FUCKING HELL. Because it was cloudy you all decided you couldn't handle it and it took me two hours and fifteen minutes to get home. I hate, without reservation, every last one of you and I'm not kidding that I wished for your deaths, all of you, so that you never drove home and got in my way again.

The only thing that made it remotely bearable was to know that my hockey team stole your best player.

None of you can drive. All of you are shocked by a highway that goes straight. None of you commuting daily here deserve to be in the same city as Peter Forsberg.

The man was on a STAMP for Chrissake. I would like to eventually see all Denver drivers on a postage stamp commemorating a horrible tragedy. Like the Bataan Death March stamps and Rape of Nanking stamps that, almost certainly, some third-world shithole issued stamps for.

In conclusion... I don't know anything about Scandanavia. Everyone has a cellphone, you can't pick your own doctor and for all I know they sled everywhere. I can only... only hope that in some small part... Peter Forsberg decided AGAINST re-signing with Colorado because he once actually tried to drive there.

Go Flyers.

Did you think that maybe they drove poorly because they were IN PAIN, ROBB?

Wow a thread bitching about traffic. How about one complaining about airline food?

Points of interest.

1. You are the worst driver in the world
2. I've drove what the state deems drunk probably 2,000 times accident free. Completley sober you've managed to smack into more park cars than errant shopping carts at Wal-Mart
3. You live in a state where 95% of the people live within 100 miles of each other and share 1 hwy. In most densely populated areas they have public transporttion. In your state they do not.Which rings us to sunny point no. 4
4. QUIT living 40 miles away from where you work. You're making the big bucks now, maybe buy a house near your job.
5. Jerk off on your comute, it relaxes you and keeps other drivers at a safe distance.

Knuckles the CLown wrote:Wow a thread bitching about traffic. How about one complaining about airline food?

I was gonna say this.

1. You are the worst driver in the world

I was also gonna say this.

Knuckles the CLown wrote:5. Jerk off on your comute, it relaxes you and keeps other drivers at a safe distance.

I've done that. It does help pass the time.

This is clearly a post about hockey and not traffic. Thus its location in the sports base and not one of the many non-sports one, you pocky human lesion.

Knuckles the CLown wrote:1. You are the worst driver in the world

"No, that's who you were. Maybe it's time you started investigating yourself. " -- Teddy, Memento

I USED to be the worst driver in the world. Then a funny thing happened. I got a car worth more than you make in two years. Suddenly it's as if it came from that old Dungeons and Dragons magic item, +4 belt of granny turning.

I keep at least 12 car lengths between myself and others. I know that your recent escapades in would-be locomotion may have made you a rusty when it comes to just what a measurement the "car length" is, so think of it this way: I leave more space between me and the car in front of me on I-25 than you could stumble across drunkenly before tripping over your feet and winding up in a crumpled puddle of your own gestating failure. The fact that we all know this is easier for you to visualize than the "car-length" should shame you into never making eye contact with anything further on the mammilian plane than "ungrinning hyena" but I suspect that there will be ten posts downgrading hockey still to come and understand that there will be no real effect. Plus, all you open sores cry about leaving as soon as someone calls you on your golden reams of horseshit.

2. I've drove what the state deems drunk probably 2,000 times accident free. Completley sober you've managed to smack into more park cars than errant shopping carts at Wal-Mart

It sickens me that a blood relative has spent enough time at Wal-Mart that it's the first thing that comes to mind in his ... well, admittedly 100% accurate metaphors. So I have little here other than a general request for you to go fuck yourself.

3. You live in a state where 95% of the people live within 100 miles of each other and share 1 hwy. In most densely populated areas they have public transporttion. In your state they do not.Which rings us to sunny point no. 4

This wasn't an unfounded personal attack so in order to make up, I'll present rather than absorb. I was trying to contact you earlier before I got the WRX I ended up with due to the fact that they come in two styles. I was hoping that your experience riding in wagons would help me make a decision to get it in that style or not -- presuming of course that you're able to make a good determination on wagon of manufacturer SUBARU by constantly riding around in wagon of type PADDY.

4. QUIT living 40 miles away from where you work. You're making the big bucks now, maybe buy a house near your job.

It's 54 miles away, for what it's worth. As you might expect, I blame everyone but myself for my two hour and ten minute drive home on Thursday. Can you guess who I blame and in what order?

1) Other drivers. Without them I am home in 45 minutes.

2) Bobby Clarke. If he wasn't SO AWESOME and didn't sign away the single best athlete in the history of Colorado sports I think at least a small portion of the commuters out here would have put in a little more effort on the way home.

3) My own personal barometers of success. If I had reached the standards put forth by the other male members of my clan I wouldn't be angsting about how to get the Black Manta in its garage in 45 minutes, but rather how to avoid that upcoming bothersome court date, what to do about my goblin's sniff snout and where the best place on my body is to transplant a shitload of hair. In case you didn't quite parse that and instead are staring open-mouthed at the text like the Hulk holding up Scourge's shaman disguise and hrraaannnnging "FRIEND....?" I'm saying I'm not in any legal trouble, svelte in nose and not fucking bald. I'm not sure how, but I think this means one of your points deserves some reconsideration.

5. Jerk off on your comute, it relaxes you and keeps other drivers at a safe distance.

... And finally! Someone is HELPING!

Ice Cream Jonsey wrote:3) My own personal barometers of success. If I had reached the standards put forth by the other male members of my clan I wouldn't be angsting about how to get the Black Manta in its garage in 45 minutes, but rather how to avoid that upcoming bothersome court date,

OH HA HA YOU REALLY GOT ME!! ZING!!!

Okay now WHO WANTS TO TALK HOCKEY!!!?