Surreality TV

I don't post much about my commute anymore. What used to be surreal to me is now so normal that not only am I not surprised when someone tries to kill me with their Escalade, I expect it and make sure they understand in advance that I'm the bigger asshole and that I will not be intimidated by their random foray into a lane I already inhabit. This really is my daily commute. Usually both morning and afternoon. Aggressive asshole with no regard for their self or anyone else is just your average DC area driver. Unless there is water from the sky involved, in which case you can add panicky into the mix, making for even more extreme fun.

I expect that sort of behavior from folks in over sized SUVs who think they're god, but lately, I've been getting it from bicyclists. I hate to rain on their parade, but their twenty five pounds of steel and rubber plus their body weight isn't a match for a seventies era Honda Civic, much less modern cars that weigh three times that.

The most egregious example was back in February. I was on Lynn Street (one way, north) approaching the GW Parkway halfway around the blind curve that crosses Fort Myer Drive (one way, south) to the onramp (you can see the light over the bushes on approach, which is nice), when what's right there in front of me going the wrong way in the middle of the fucking road? An idiot on a bicycle of course. This moron didn't merely lack enlightened self interest, he was actively doing shit counter to his very survival. That I didn't hit him was purely due to the fact that there was no car in the lane to my right so I had somewhere to go, because I sure as fuck didn't have time to stop.

If I'd hit that asshole, he'd have been lucky to live. In the process there's a good chance he'd have come through my windshield, potentially killing me in the process. And of course, bicyclists don't have insurance, so assuming no one actually died, my insurance would have had to cover all expenses, leaving me pretty much fucked.

That was pretty much the last time I gave a fuck about a commuter on a bicycle; the idiocy has continued unabated, but usually not quite at that level of suicidally stupid. They can all die in a fucking fire for all I care at this point, and won't be missed. As long as they don't get in my way it's no longer any concern of mine. Their sense of entitlement won't save them when momentum turns them into roadkill.

I don't post much about my commute anymore. What used to be surreal to me is now so normal that not only am I not surprised when someone tries to kill me with their Escalade, I expect it and make sure they understand in advance that I'm the bigger asshole and that I will not be intimidated by their random foray into a lane I already inhabit. This really is my daily commute. Usually both morning and afternoon. Aggressive asshole with no regard for their self or anyone else is just your average DC area driver. Unless there is water from the sky involved, in which case you can add panicky into the mix, making for even more extreme fun.

I expect that sort of behavior from folks in over sized SUVs who think they're god, but lately, I've been getting it from bicyclists. I hate to rain on their parade, but their twenty five pounds of steel and rubber plus their body weight isn't a match for a seventies era Honda Civic, much less modern cars that weigh three times that.

The most egregious example was back in February. I was on Lynn Street (one way, north) approaching the GW Parkway halfway around the blind curve that crosses Fort Myer Drive (one way, south) to the onramp (you can see the light over the bushes on approach, which is nice), when what's right there in front of me going the wrong way in the middle of the fucking road? An idiot on a bicycle of course. This moron didn't merely lack enlightened self interest, he was actively doing shit counter to his very survival. That I didn't hit him was purely due to the fact that there was no car in the lane to my right so I had somewhere to go, because I sure as fuck didn't have time to stop.

If I'd hit that asshole, he'd have been lucky to live. In the process there's a good chance he'd have come through my windshield, potentially killing me in the process. And of course, bicyclists don't have insurance, so assuming no one actually died, my insurance would have had to cover all expenses, leaving me pretty much fucked.

That was pretty much the last time I gave a fuck about a commuter on a bicycle; the idiocy has continued unabated, but usually not quite at that level of suicidally stupid. They can all die in a fucking fire for all I care at this point, and won't be missed. As long as they don't get in my way it's no longer any concern of mine. Their sense of entitlement won't save them when momentum turns them into roadkill.

Please be advised a simulated explosion scheduled for this Wednesday, March 25th between 9:30 am and 12:00 pm near the Key Bridge in Washington, D.C. for the filming of a TV pilot. The explosion will produce a 20' to 30' fireball that will last for approximately two minutes.

Ah, the joys of working inside the Beltway...

How many time zones there are in the Soviet Union?

How many time zones there are in the Soviet Union?

There is NO ONE else here.

The shills at the front of the school (we vote at the school my kid attends, conveniently enough). They never know what to make of me. They get confused by the scruffy geek in black jeans and tee shirt with leather riding jacket and boots...getting out of a BMW (that commonly gets mistaken for an M3 thanks to the body kit on the ZHP package). Meanwhile, I zip on past them before they can collect themselves and annoy me with hand outs.

The shills at the front of the school (we vote at the school my kid attends, conveniently enough). They never know what to make of me. They get confused by the scruffy geek in black jeans and tee shirt with leather riding jacket and boots...getting out of a BMW (that commonly gets mistaken for an M3 thanks to the body kit on the ZHP package). Meanwhile, I zip on past them before they can collect themselves and annoy me with hand outs.

So, I'm in the kitchen/break room making tea (Lipton, with plenty of sugar, because I grew up in the south, and all you and your funky foreign teas can bite me), and the conversation going on is about how you can tell when the maid service has been through.

Okay, so maybe things here are a bit different than the rest of the Commonwealth (of the four people in the kitchen getting coffee or tea, including me, three currently have maid service, and we used to at one point). Growing up? I didn't know a single person who had maid service.

Help me Inter Net Kenobi, you're my only hope...

I've hidden the plans for the Galactic Empire's newest boredom station in this droid.

Entertain me with your adventures delivering them to Excitaan.