Not a Denzel Washington Blog

If I was to ever commit a crime (again) depending on its magnitude I think I could get away with it. I figure most people could. With all the TV shows and movies coming out these days where the bad guy actually wins, it’s giving plenty of ideas to the dumb ass criminals of the world.

 

Watching the “Inside Man” the other day I came out of watching that movie thinking I could easily rob a bank, but then I thought “I’m not Clive Owen” and there are actually thousands of cops out there with the skills that Denzel Washington had in that movie. Too bad there aren’t as many actors that have Denzel’s skills….

I’m looking at you Tyler Perry….

 

 

 
get your shit together.

But this isn’t a discussion about Denzel; well actually this isn’t a discussion at all.

I think of it more as me just shouting at a wall and if there happens to be someone listening on the other side of that wall than, what’s wrong with that person?

Ok again, this isn’t a blog about Denzel, although….

 

NO! Get a grip, Chase. Ok, so…..ah where was I? YES, TVs shows with smart criminals…I feel like TV shows that show how crimes go down, might spark a bunch of moron copycats. After all, most of those shows go into great detail and even go as far as interviewing the criminal and ask him how he did and even WHERE WE WENT WRONG!

I know that there are convicts in a prison somewhere watching these shows with a pad of paper and pen thinking “OHHH, leaving DNA everywhere can be a bad thing! I better keep it in my pants next time.”

This thought startled me, thinking that criminals will start outsmarting the coppers but then I got a grip and realized that those criminals are going to need something first before they attempt an elaborate heist.

What you say?

A Gun, perhaps…

 

 

Nope.

A getaway car, possibly?

 

 

 
Nope.

Intelligence, my friend, intelligence. Being able to construct a decent plan begins with being able to speak correctly…or “talk smart-like” for all you convicts out there.

These shows aren’t THAT bad than, I enjoy watching CSI sometimes. Mostly just during the day, I find that there’s a glare on my TV during the day and when I watch shows like CSI and Law and Order the glare makes it look like I’m in the TV show.

So during the interrogation scenes I can pretend to be the good cop while Ice-T gives the “perp” the stink eye….

and yes, I have a lot of time on my hands.

Even though I assume that there are a bunch of stupid criminals out there, which there are……

except for Denzel…

 

 

 
FOCUS!

There are actually quite a bit of dumb cops.

“Blasphemy!” you say, I’m here to tell you, friend, that there very well may be!

By the way, I’d like to point out (for those of you still reading) that half the time I have no idea what my blog is going to be about until I’m about 3 quarters of the way through it, but I think that is accurately reflected in my writing. This particular blog was originally going to be about people trying to copycat other criminals and failing horribly but now it’s going to finish with a story about slacker cops.

 

 

So these cops got a case about a year back where a woman was killed, not going to say how cause…quite frankly, it was gross. The cops had everything they needed, or at least all the coppers on TV need; DNA, shoe prints and even finger prints! So what’s the issue? Well they probably don’t possess the same technology than the TV shows do, cause that shit doesn’t exist.

The cops then sat on this info, waiting for a tip to come in….waiting….waiting…ok now a year later and they think “ok maybe we should ask the public what they know.” Soooo NOW, they have released info about the murder and what happens?

Think about it.

What would be the ONE thing that could happen that would make the coppers look like dumbasses?

Well the murderer? He turned himself in.

Yep, the guy would have probably brought himself in sooner if the cops would have just trusted the public a little bit. I mean, why do you even bother asking for tips from the public if you don’t release any info.

That’s kind of like going over the air waves and saying “There’s a lost person out there and we need help to find him, except I won’t tell you what the boy, OR GIRL, looks like or where it exactly happened.”

So let that be a lesson all you cops that read this blog, don’t bother reading blogs that are written by a half-baked copy writer living in a town that has fewer people living in it than the amount of people inside the Eaton Centre at any given moment.

And now a salute to my favorite police officer…

 

 

 

J’ai sérieusement putain de ketchup déteste

Vous constaterez que le reste du cette phrase est complète poubelle, tui vai p’est comier un vertani mure ce lerde!

 

I’ll wait here while you while you Google translate that…

 

Ahhhh, Frenchies….just look at this guy…

 

 

 

 

He think he’s people!

 
So cute…ok I’m just kidding I have the most respect for Frenchies.

 

So much so that I affectionately refer to them as such.

 

 

 

I set up to write this blog about all the different cultures of the world, and what they’re all about. Their habits, society traits and what not. But then I realized I know nothing about 99 percent of the cultures, including my own. I barely even know what the French people are all about, but I do occasionally try to translate the words on the opposite of my cereal in the morning so I think I’m qualified to teach people about Frenchies…

 

 

I like French people, they’re pretty chill, or at least the ones that I’ve met. Including my buddy from Quebec that I worked with when I was out west a couple of years back. My buddies name was Vincent and he lived in a small town across from the St. Lawrence river from Quebec City named Charney.

 

There are two things that I focused my attention on while I was there.

 

One, be on Just for Laugh gags.

 

 

 

Two, find the perfect poutine.

 

 

If you have never watched the Comedy Network between 9am and 5pm than you probably don’t know what Just for Laugh gags are. It’s basically show that is muted for the most part, other than the terrible “elevator” type music that they play through-out the show. They do pranks on random people in the public that are somewhat elaborate. One episode, they played a prank where one guy would go up to a bystander and ask for directions. At one point the two people get separated for only an instant but when they reconnect the first guy gets switched out with another person. The point of this is to see if the bystander notices that the guy switched places with some who, is wearing the same clothes but had no similarities. For example a white dude gets switched out with a black dude and for the most part the victim had no idea. That proves to me that either one, Frenchies are totally NOT racist or two, they’re completely obvious!

 

So I wanted to be a part of that so when they do prank me I can FREAK OUT and start losing it on the actors/actresses on the show to throw them off and to ultimately prank them! At one point during my trip I THOUGHT I  was on the show, but the lady behind the counter at McDonalds just messed my order. They didn’t appreciate when I threw my pop at the wall and screamed “I REFUSED TO BE GAGGED!”

 

 

Awkward….

 

On my trip I also wanted to find the best poutine in Quebec. I ate so much damn poutine while I was there , it was unreal, and by unreal I mean FUCKING AWESOME! In Ontario there are two types of poutine; good and bad. In Quebec, there are some many different types of poutines. I had poutines with potato wedges, with candy, on top of pizza, tons of different ways. I gotta say though, I easily gain around 10 pounds during this journey, but it was worth it! The winner was this place that was called “Rotisserie Fusee”, which translates to “Rocket Chicken”, which already puts the place in the top 5 based on the name alone. Now what made the poutine so damn good was the fact they put Chicken Nuggets in the poutine.  Yeah…let that sink in.

 

 

 

Check them out HERE, there glorious!
Stick around for the Frenchie Blog part 2, coming to a poutinerie near you…

 

 

 
 

Winter? I hardly know her…

They say “You don’t know how stupid a person is until they speak”…well I say “You don’t know how stupid someone is until you see how they handle driving in the snow.”

It happens every winter; snow falls and everyone loses it.

 

 

 
Before I get to far into this little rant of mine I’m going to point out that I hate winter driving a lot, for many reasons, that’s why I avoid it at all costs. So much so that I actually took my car of the road, of course saving 400 dollars a month is also a nice bonus. I figure I live in a town that it would only take you 20 minutes to WALK across town, twice, and still be able to stop to grab a slice of za. I live a block away from work and the radio station I work at is nice enough to allow me to use the station vehicle to do my grocery shopping every couple of weeks. So what’s the point of keeping my car on the road in this one horse town…which is ironic cause this town has a shit load of horses.

 

 

 

Besides, I had my car on the road last spring, and we all know what happened then….

 

 

 
I don’t trust the drivers in this town.

As far as I can tell there are two types of dumbass drivers in this town. The women 4 feet and under and guys 6 feet and over.

 

Somehow, the short women of this town all managed to find a husband that works construction, or something along those lines, because they all drive trucks bigger than my college apartment. Which is confusing….if you’re not tall enough to see over the steering wheel than why don’t you drive a smaller car or at least get a fuckin booster seat, and stop trying to maneuver a parallel park…you know you’re going to just go back and forth until you give up and drive away, leaving the rest of traffic waiting while you’re humoring yourself.

 

Now the only thing worse than an over precautionary woman driver are the assholes that don’t realize the rest of the towns drivers don’t take Hummers or other similar dick-compensating, 4 wheel vehicles to go for a Timmies run. For example, nice lady driving kids to school on a snowy morning. Some douche comes driving up, passes the lady and scares the shit out of her and her kids. Of course that lady isn’t going to cruise at mach 5 while the roads are slick, but all this douchebag is thinking is “Move… bitch, get out the way, get out the way, bitch, get out the way”

That was a Ludacris lyrics before….jus incase you were wondering why there’s a picture of him there…

 

ANYWAY…

 

Of course that story sometimes has a happy ending, with the douche having to shovel out 300 hundred dollars to get dragged out of the ditch. All the while the lady safely passes the douche and makes it to her destination in time for her kids to play in the snow in the playground…

 

 

…awwwwww.

 

And now to discuss the positive things that winter brings us…

 

Snow angels…peeing in the snow.

 

 

 

Ahhhhh…

Fully clothed fat people? I can’t think of a third one…

I remember I used to like winter a lot more, but I think I was 12 and lived across the street from the number 1 tobogganing hill in the town between ages 10-16. Which eventually came the number one taboozing destination between ages 17-18.

TABOOZING!

That’s the third thing.

 

By the way, if you were a loser in high school and wasn’t invited ever to go tabazooing or if you just didn’t go because “it was too cold” than you’re not only a loser but also a little bit of a bitch. Basically Taboozing is where you and your friends (or friend…or just you) will go get shittered and fall down a hill. Kind of like what Western girls do at Jim Bobs on a Friday night, except replace the hill with stairs.

Looks kinda like this…

 

 

Ahh, Western girls….oh how I’ve missed ye.

 
So in closing; winter =  good

 

winter drivers = cautionary

 

dumbass winter driver = one notch below Ketchup…

 

And that’s saying something.

 

 

Now, if you’re still here; why not take part in this poll on the current theme of this blog?

 

Thanks, yo.

 

Cheers to New Years

A New Year. A whole new series of blogs full of spelling mistakes, bad grammar and a bunch of shenaniganiness…

It’s been a while since I’ve made a post and there were literally PAIRS of people asking why I haven’t been writing any posts. Well for one, I actually forgot about this website.

It was only when I Goggled “websites that hate ketchup more than stubbing your toe” that I came across this website again. After reading through all the different posts for about an hour I realized that this was IN-FACT my website.

It was like Christmas morning all over again.

Which is the perfect Segway in to the second reason why I wasn’t posting.

December, that’s why.

I get why Christmas is awesome; you see old friends and family member that you only see during the holidays. There’s  tons of food that’s always better than the food you eat the other 363 days of the year (not including Bacon Day, September 3^rd) and of course the presents. Presents that evolved from Lego and Buzz Lightyear action figures, which was fucking awesome, to socks and dress shirts, which now that you’re old enough to appreciate them…is equally as fucking awesome.

Except for that one year I got a calculator for Christmas…fail ONE math test and all of a sudden your Gilbert Grape.

I’ve mentioned it before but I doubt anyone read far enough into that blog to remember, matter of fact I’m am confident in saying that no one has even made it this far in this blog. I’m all alone, I can say what I want.

I DIDN’T START FLOSSING TIL I WAS 20!

*cough*

ANNNNNYWAYS….

Like I was saying before I got out of hand. I’ve mentioned before that I work the weekend and holiday shifts at my radio station to pull in some extra money. Holiday shifts obviously include Christmas eve and all of Boxing week but luckily I got Christmas Day off.

That allowed me to drive down to Chatham around noon on Christmas Eve and I drove back on Christmas Night to be back in time for my Boxing Day shift the next day at 9am. So basically I drove just over 6 hours so I could be at home for just over 24 hours. Which was nice.

Warning; the following is a tender moment. I didn’t tell my mom I was able to make it down, so as far as she was concerned I was missing this year’s Christmas. LITTLE DID SHE KNOW HER SON IS A LYING BASTARD. I showed up on Christmas eve and surprised her while she was sitting with my dog on the living room couch.

That showed her who her favorite son SHOULD BE….actually I kind of screwed myself over cause I had nowhere to sleep.

Should have thought ahead…

I drove back Christmas night, only because I hated the idea of sleeping on the love seat for another night and having to wake up at 6am to drive for 3 hours in the snow.

By the way, does anyone else feel like they are in Stars Wars going through hyperspace anytime you’re driving through a snowfall? Know what I mean? No? Ok, I’ll just continue…I also hadn’t drank any booze all Christmas day, not because I’m straight edge but rather because I was driving my grandmother around….and she hogs all the booze.

Driving back that night and realizing how ridiculously sober I was; I wanted to hit a ride program. Pretty much just so I can boast about sobriety, but just my luck…drive for 3 hours and not one copper in sight. Typical! The ONE time I wasn’t booze cruising down highway 2 and I don’t get pulled over.

I KID, I KID!

Anyways, I’m tired of typing. So I’ll post more later this week, or month….or year….

New Year, New Look…still hate Ketchup.

I’m sure no one noticed I haven’t posted anything in a couple months but I thought I’d let my one or two fans out there that I’m coming back to this site and continuing to write some blogs, ok Mom?

 

Anyway, be sure to stay tuned…

Diverse-city

This past weekend I visited Canada’s answer for diversity, otherwise known as Windsor, Ontario.

 

If you’ve never been there, I’m referring to the over abundance of different ethnic groups.
Now, first I should explain that I have no problem with any ethic group. This blog isn’t going to be about tearing any culture apart or really anything like that. I was just pointing out that there’s a lot of them.

It’s kind of like how, in Mongolia, the population of Horses out number the population of humans. Not sure if that’s true, but I read it in an Uncle John’s Bathroom reader, so it seems legit.

NOT SAYING THAT THOSE PEOPLE ARE HORSES, but wouldn’t that be fucking awesome! I city ran on horses! Horse bus drivers, horse bankers, horse doctors, horse police officers…wait, are the horses that the cops ride on top of considered police officers?

 

ANNNNYWAYS…

I lived in Windsor last year for roughly 4 months while working at the local Blackburn radio branch. I never used to drive a car there, preferred public transit a lot more and if you’ve ever had to drive through Windsor, you know exactly why that is.
I went to Windsor to see a good buddy of mine, Jay, because he was getting married to another good friend of mine, Jessica. I couldn’t make it to his bachelor party so I thought a night of poker and heavy drinking downtown would have to do.

 

(Aren’t they cute?)

 

When I did have a car in Windsor and was dropping by Jay’s place, I usually park at a parking lot across the street from their apartment building. This parking lot, just like every other one in Windsor, was a pay parking lot, but I didn’t pay…not because I think I’m hardcore, because I didn’t have change and I never used to pay there.

Remember that I didn’t pay.

After winning the poker game, where the payout wasn’t money but rather just beers at the bar, we all headed dt (that stands for downtown, not Ducktales like I had once thought).

At the Honest Lawyer’s in Windsor there’s a guy who works behind the bar and is kind of a douche. You know those bartenders that flip bottles and what-not? They’re pretty badass….BUT, the bartenders that TRY to do that but fail…well they try their hardest so I can’t hate on them.

However the guy who was behind the bar last weekend was a tool who THOUGHT he could do crazy shit like that, but couldn’t, and he had the cocky attitude as if he could…YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!

My buddy and I were waiting for a beer, APPARENTLY behind the section of the bar that they don’t serve, which I didn’t think existed. So instead of telling us that when we first got there, he had us wait forever and THEN tell us that he couldn’t serve us at where we were standing.

You Son-ofa-bitch…

After awhile we went to this place in Windsor called the loop. Now if you’ve been there than you’re either….

A) a hipster

 B) a person who enjoys dancing uncontrollable to songs that were hits 30 years ago

or C) you’re not a douche that judges people for dancing uncontrollably to songs that were hits 30 years ago.
I’m B).

At one point in the night I was trying to request a song that I didn’t know the title to, but I was trying to sing it out. This song doesn’t have “lyrics” per say, but rather just an Italian man rambling of words and phrases that very well could be in Italian but the fuck do I know? I don’t speak Italian.

Sweaty, sweaty balls ensued…

Time to head ova to the golden arches and pick up a 10 pack of chicken nuggets.

Fuck ya, chicken nuggets.

Now we’re walking back to crash when I went over to my car to grab my bag…remember when I said I didn’t pay the parking ticket? Yeah, you probably know where this is going…

If you’re thinking I got a fat ass ticket…well…you’re wrong. These assholes sidestepped that and went right to “Let’s tow this mother fuckers car!”

You sons-of-bitches.

 

Yep, my car got towed as well as my bag with my smokes and contact stuff in it.

Great. Do you know how hard it is to sleep, on the floor, after a night of drinking, your car is towed, you have no smokes and your contacts are still in your eyes?

It’s very fucking hard.

I just remember trying to pass out watching the last half of Austin Powers: Goldmember…did anyone find that movie funny?

 

Fucking terrible.

ANNNWAYYYSSS….

Jessica, the angel she is, loans me her smoke pack.  I attempt to kill time, at 4 in the morning, by hanging out on their balcony.

Which is an amazing balcony!

Just look at this fucking view of Windsor/Detroit.

So now the Austin Powers movie is over and I still can’t even begin to drift off. JUST THEN, a legendary voice came on the TV and said the most glorious words it could have said it that moment…

“Coming up next on (TV Channel I can’t remember)…Die Hard with Bruce Willis”

Fuck ya…

I wasn’t tired anyway.

I spend an hour or so watching that movie and finally around 5:30 I pass out.

Wake up and get a ride to get my car out of the lot. 120 dollars later, I realized that it would have only cost me 3 dollars to park there and instead I’m out 120 bucks.

Does anyone else do the thing where when they’re out a certain amount of money they think of all the things they could have bought with that money? I’m not talking about bills and rent and shit, I mean like those new shoes you wanted, that video game you were gonna get or even that set of Miracle blades from that infomercial you love.

I’m driving back now thinking of my stupidity when I get a text from Jessica asking me where I left her smoke pack from the night before. A moment of thought passes, which tends to last 2 or 3 minutes, I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out her smoke pack.

Now, I feel like garbage, not only was she nice enough to loan me them in the first place, but now I pretty much stole them from the bride-to-be.

“Sorry, Jessica! There in my pocket, I really didn’t mean to do that. I feel like shit!”

I would have returned them but I was already 45 minutes outta town.
“It’s ok…”

 

(Isn’t she a doll?)

“Enjoy the dub that’s in there too J”
This was my face after I read that text.

Now I’m the son-ofa-bitch…

Move b!tch, get out the way.

I know that most of the time in these blogs I tend to talk about things I hate. Like Ketchup, Snookie, Old people who don’t know how to drive etc.  I would like to talk about something that I really like.
But I’m not…

It’s just not entertaining, not that the following blog will be entertaining, you’re just going to have to read on to find out.

Don’t you hate Moving Day?

Recently I made the plan to move into a buddy’s house that’s in the same town that was living in before. I told my landlord I’m moving out and he asked when I would like to get out. I responded, “Just like the girls in the morning after, I want to get out of my apartment as soon as possible.”

My landlord lives in Cambridge (roughly 2 hours from where I live) so we made the deal where I help him by showing the apartment to people who are interested. This way he saves him self a couple of trips to Wingham and not only do I get my rent money back but there’s a chance that one of the people who come by to check out the apartment is a porn star.

BOW-CHICKA-WAH-WOW

Sadly that fantasy did not play out since the only people who came by was an old women and a dude…I still banged one of them though, I’ll leave it to your imagination to choose which.

I finally get the apartment rented out and HOLY SHIT I JUST SAW A BIRD OUT MY WINDOW GET SMOKED BY A FUCKIN CAR!

It’s real life awesome?

ANNNNYYYYWWWAAYYS

My landlord asked if I could be out by Saturday, that was Tuesday when he asked. I really wanted that rent money back so I took the challenge.

After a sleepless night of planning out the whole move and of course the occasional Kraft Dinner break; I was mentally ready to GTFO.

I spent the past 3 days getting everything packed and moved.

Have you ever packed up and moved all of your earthly possession in less than 3 days?

It fucking sucks.

This is where good friends come in. After some buddies from the station gave me a hand, everything was handled in a matter of hours.

Pretty badass, amirite?

Does anyone else get extremely sentimental about an apartment or house when you’re moving out?

I just remember thinking, “This is the last time I’m going to eat cereal in this apartment.” “This is the last time I’m going to have a marathon NHL 12 session.” “This is the last time that I’ll be COMPLETELY NAKKID…in this apartment.”

In the end it was a successful move; it was about as difficult as it was for the people in “What’s eating Gilbert Grape” to move the incredibly fat mother out of the house.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I don’t want to move again for at least a week, but I know I’ll have to get out of this chair to take a piss eventually.

AND NOW ON A SIDE NOTE:

My favorite viral video of the week. Enjoy…

 

 

 

Apples and Oranges

I remember when the first iPod came out, they used to be those big ass ones that were roughly the size of a box of Kraft Dinner and usually weighed the size of bag of apples (see what I did there?). The only people I saw owning an iPod were a “select” group of people, and by “select”, I mean the kids with the rich-ass parents.

I never understood why the iPod’s were so much better than my dinky little Samsung mp3 player was, but then I saw 50 Cent in a music video and understood what the appeal was…it was gangsta.

Just like baggy clothes, dew rags, watermelons and the word “fah-sizzle”, this product must have become popular because the African-American community embraced it.

No, I don’t actually think that….the iPod part…the watermelon part is completely true.

I still don’t understand why they became so popular. I know why they ARE popular now, but what made them the monopoly they are today? For a while, they were just there and then, it seemed over-night that they took off like a dude that just snatched your purse. All of a sudden, they were fuckin everywhere and just like any other person on this god-forsaken continent, I felt the need to own the hell out of one.

I first got an iPod that was one of those 8 GB Nano’s. I thought, “This is the best thing ever! They will never be able to top this incredible piece of technology!”

Boy, was I wrong.

Apple has to be one of the most intelligent companies around. They convince the stubborn people of this world that they DO need to spend more and more money on the same product ever 365 days, sometimes even sooner.

I know a guy that I would consider the cheapest guy I know, that will remain nameless. Paul was so cheap that I’m pretty sure unplugs the clocks when he goes to bed. He is an Apple nut, he buys all the shit they put out. He was the only guy that I knew that owned one of those lame ass Mac Air books, or whatever the hell they were called, and also the only guy that defended it’s pointlessness. This proved to me that the world has become apple-dependent.

They say “An apple a day keeps the doctor away.” But what they actually mean is “An Apple product ever 365^th day, keep the hipsters at bay”

Now honestly, it wasn’t that surprising that Steve Jobs passed away, I mean it sucks, but really who didn’t see that coming? Even if you haven’t seen a recent picture of him you must have known that a little while ago he stepped down as Apple CEO. Right there you should have realized “Well, he’s on his way out.”

No body gives up a multi-billion dollar enterprise like that.

I mean I would, if I got all the money. I could do what everyone always wishes they could do….what ever person out there works day-in and day-out so they can one day do.

Absolutely nothing.

I wouldn’t just do nothing, I would do so little that I actually start to deteriorate into a puddle of plasma TV’s and gold bricks.

If I had Steve Jobs’ money, like say some guy calls me and tells me I’m Steve Jobs long-lost son and I have inherited his fortune. Sure my whole life would have been a lie but I would be loaded so who gives a shit.

First, I would buy an elephant and name it Dumbo. Second, develop a trampoline that can withstand 100 people jumping on it. Next, I would pay a 100 people to jump on a giant trampoline with Dumbo.

Chaos….so much fun to watch…

Amirite?

Seriously though I have no idea what I would do if I had that kind of money. Probably go crazy. I mean literally insane, I would go on a money spending tangent which would eventually lead me in a wild car chase, that I would’ve started just to see if the cops could catch me in my pimped out ice cream truck.

Only a man of great integrity and will power could have that kind of money and not have gone crazy. That alone tells me that Steve Jobs was an O.K guy.

Hey Steve Jobs…

You’re ok.

The Jeffersons

When I started to write this blog I realized I would be using the term “old people” more than I should. So I decided to come up with a new name to refer to my elders.

So the new name for old people is “Jenkins” when I refer to men, “Mabel” when it’s a woman and “Jefferson’s” when I’m referring to a group of old people.

 

OK, let’s get started…

First of all, what’s the deal with all the Mable’s being allowed to drive, even though they can’t see over the steering wheel?

 

 

I’ve seen this countless times…earlier in my life (last week) I believed that all Mable’s have the ability to see through certain objects. Much to my dismay; I was told by a reliable source (Discovery channel) that they could NOT in fact see through objects, rather they mostly just guess where they’re driving.

When it comes to driving, I think that all Jefferson’s should have a special demerit system that only applies to them…a three-strike system, much like black people. Each time a cop, or even a citizen, spots a Jenkins or a Mabel performing a very stupid maneuver in their vehicle they issue that Jefferson a strike. This can range anywhere from parking in the middle of 2 spaces, going 20 km on the highway or even having their blinking on for an extended amount of time.

Go ahead and tell me that won’t work!

 

Well, I don’t care what you say.

ANNNNYWAYS…

Has anyone ever got stuck behind an Mabel in line to a bank? Jenkins are much better at dealing with line-ups at Banks, grocery stores etc. but there’s something about a Mabel being at the front of a line that just screams “YOU’RE GOING TO TAKE FOR-FUCKING-EVER, AREN’T YOU?!?”

 

 

This particular Mabel caused my casual trip to the bank into a 20 minute marathon of dirty looks. This Mabel had one of those old debit books, you know the booklets that keep track out your transactions. Does anyone even use those things anymore? No? Everyone has a computer? Thought so…

So this Mabel was going through EVER FUCKING SINGLE TRANSACTION and having the bank teller look up where each one had taken place. Geez Louise!

And you know I have no fucking patience, but the guy in front of me was even more fuming than me. One, because he had been waiting there longer than me but more importantly because when he actually got to the counter the girl couldn’t help him. He needed a 20 changed into dimes but apparently they were out of dimes.

He was red in the face, screaming random shit as he was leaving the bank….

“HOW CAN A BANK BE OUTTA DIMES, I mean I never thought it could…(fades in the fog)”

 

 

There was no fog, but nice touch right?

Ok this seems like a good point to say that I love my Jefferson’s, I mean my grandparents…they’re all pretty badass. My grandmas doesn’t drive often and my grandpa is quite capable of driving a vehicle so I know there’s no one out there getting stuck behind them in traffic or lines etc.

But even after all that, I feel we still need the Jefferson’s of the world. After all, what would this world be without them?

Well, at least without them there wouldn’t be any Viagra.

So there’s that.

Leave sooner, drive slower, live longer…

This world runs on fuel, because frankly, the majority of this world is lazy as hell and need cars to drive them 5 minutes away…myself included. Cars make it possible to get from point A to Point B, and if you had a car in High School, they make it possible to make it from Second to Third Base…jus sayin’.

I recently decided to take my shitty little Neon of the road for the winter, mostly because I would be saving 3oo bucks a month, but also because I hate winter driving.

The top three things I hate the most:

1. Ketchup

2. Winter Driving

3.

I hate winter driving because of the whole warming up the car in the morning, scraping ice off the windshield and not to mention driving with 25% visibility (which is the equivalent to having a fat person sitting in your lap while you’re trying to drive). Oh…and I also don’t like winter driving because of the possibility of skidding out of control and crashing into a ditch, only to get rear-ended by an 18 wheeler…but mostly because of the scraping the windshield part.

Another thing I hate about winter driving, that actually applies to driving year-round, is other drivers. Not just any driver, no I’m talking about the dumbasses that think that they can take 30 minutes to parallel park.

It’s the people who pull up fast as shit to a stop sign then just stop there and wait for you to go (even though they were obviously there first) and then after the initial confusion of why this person has a license…you decide to go for it. Only to see that they had a similar thought and decided to go for it. Then you are stuck in this fuckin intersection, with fuckin idiot and you are just TRYING TO GET HOME FOR LUNCH!

 

yes that happened to me today…

Situations like this happen to me all the time, which lead me to ask myself…is it my fault?

No, nothing is…

So whose fault is it?

I had to get to the bottom of this, I started keeping track of all the stupid drivers I’ve spotted, just to see if there are any reoccurring variables.

After literally HOURS of research and based on really no theory at all I’ve discovered the perfect mathematical equation to what makes a “Bad driver”.

x = gender + (age – race) ²

Not bad, right?

But seriously, why are there still all these bad drivers?

I have always wondered this and only up until a couple of weeks ago, I really had no idea, then it hit me! Well, she almost hit me. It was a woman who pulled off one of the stupidest exit to a parking lot that I’ve since in a while. She just wildly rushed out of the parking lot, forcing me and another car to slam on the brakes.

The car that pulled out was one of those Drivers Ed. cars, so there was a moment where I understood the radical driving, but then when I looked closer I realized there was only one person in the car and she was driving. The girl who drove out of the parking lot not only was a grown woman, but a driver instructor none-the-less!

I didn’t think of this right away, I didn’t think of it when I got out of my car, I didn’t think of it when I was laying in bed BUT THEN…during my MP (Morning Poo) the next day a light bulb went off! I changed the light bulb in my bathroom and then I realized; maybe that’s why there are bad drivers…because there are bad driving instructors!

We need to make the regulations on becoming a driving instructor a little stricter.

 

Now if you belong to the group that says, “it’s because it was a women behind the wheel, that’s why you almost got hit”; how do you figure? I think women drivers are totally safe! Where do you get off saying: “Women drivers should be put through a separate driving program to learn to be a little bit less defensive on the road and a little more re-active? They should learn not to apply make-up and text while behind the wheel. Women should take another drivers test right around age 40, to refresh themselves on how to drive just incase their one of the women that have driven for little over ten years and think they own the road!”

I mean; I just don’t understand where the people who say that kind of stuff get there facts?
Andddd now a totally random selection of funny pictures…Enjoy!