Road Retards

Once again another generally uneventful Summer has passed me by and fall has arrived. Whilst seasonal changes are generally irrelevant given that my basement habitat stays the same year-round this fall brings changes for me as well. Once again I have enrolled in classes at the local and reigning #1 community college in the nation, none other than Central Peidmont Community College; the crème de la crème of community colleges. Unfortunately, my path toward a supposed higher education also brings me on much more treacherous paths on a daily basis as well... the mean streets of Charlotte. Now you'd think with all the NASCAR related businesses and headquarters in Charlotte that perhaps it's citizens would embrace what it means to be a great driver and learn the rules of the road. Unfortunately, this could not be further from the truth. My daily commute to and from class has only brought me mental anguish as I attempt to navigate through the sea of retards that composes typical Charlotte traffic. Luckily I've equipped myself with the latest and most greatest automotive technology to do so: my 1991 Toyota Tercel - from hell. Devoid of any nonsensical features like power steering, power brakes, interior lighting or a working gas guage this is truly a vehicle for an automotive savant like myself.
Yesterday afternoon I had finished class for the day and I was making my way home as usual. I had driven about 10 miles when I heard and felt something off with the engine. I glanced at the tripometer and noticed it was within the 40 mile window where it had between a quarter of a tank and totally empty. Out of habit I glanced at my gas guage and of course it was way below empty - which tells me almost nothing since it looks the same once it has under a quarter of a tank in it regardless. So I decided to pursue the same plan of action I normally do everytime I find something wrong with my car. Ignore it. So I kept driving and a few miles later the sound and vibration returned. It was at this point I realized I was running out of gas imminently, so I pulled over to the Sunset Road exit lane coasted up the exit ramp. The entire time I was doing so I was swerving my car back and forth left to right to make sure my car would pick up any remaining fuel that might be sloshing around inside. I finally made it to the stoplight at the end of the ramp right as the Tercel died. No big deal. I put it in neutral swerved to the right and started it back up, coasting into a gas station about a quarter mile away. No harm done - I hope. So I fill up and pull out to the stoplight adjacent to the gas station to benefit from the green arrow while not having to worry about pulling out in front of 2 lanes of traffic. I soon realized that this lane could only go right for some retarded reason when I needed to go left so I drove along the road until I saw a place to potentially pull into and turn around. It was at this moment I noticed a guy in a chromed out Escalade on the other side of the street eyeing me. Or perhaps it was the McDonalds I just passed about a quarter mile ago on the right. Regardless I merged into the center lane between the yellow lines to pull in only to have him do the exact same thing about 20 yards away. "What a fucking idiot," I'm thinking... but my left turn was approaching so I kept driving forward. Unfortunately so does he until we are both stopped about 20 feet apart, staring each other down. Now if this scenario had played out on my way to class, I'd probably be irate and probably screaming at him already. However, since it was on the way home and I had nowhere to go and nothing to do for the remainder of the day, I embraced this staredown like I would any other. I never back down. About 5 seconds pass by and neither of us makes a single movement. It's at this point that I move my left hand from it's resting place atop my steering wheel, click the seat-recline lever on the left side of my drivers seat and slowly but meaningfully, recline and relax in the seat while subtly adjusting my black aviator sunglasses and giving him a little smirk. Slick. At this point it looked like I had him questioning whether or not I was actually ever going to move and I see him begin to talk with the girl in the passenger seat. Approximately 15 more seconds pass by without either of us budging and inch until I see him shake his head in frustration and begin to pull back onto the side of the road where he came from. As he began to pull beside me I saw his window rolling down as if he was going to say something to me. Luckily I always drive with my windows down so before he even had the chance to get his window all the way down I screamed out "learn how to fucking drive you god damn retard," and drove by him making my left turn. Out of my rear view mirror I saw his breaklights on and he was still sitting in the same place I had just insulted him; perhaps debating what he could do about it. A few seconds later he apparently realized the answer was nothing, as I saw him give up and pull into the McDonalds drive through. I'm lovin' it.

Almost Hit and Rant

It was later this same day in the evening when I was sitting bored in my basement bored, looking for something to do. It was a nice night out so I decided to go for a walk. It was a walk like any other until something odd happened at the end. As I was returning home and walking along the street in front of my house I saw some car pulling up behind me; nothing unusual so I kept walking listening to music. Then I see the lights get bright and slow down almost right behind me. I figured it had to have been my dad pulling up next to me to give me a ride down the driveway. So I turn to my left and this random car I didnt recognize was seriously inches from my leg. "Woah!" I screamed then locked eyes with the guy in the car who had to have been just as suprised if not even moreso to see me. "I ALMOST HIT YOU! I ALMOST HIT YOU! I ALMOST HIT YOU!" He screamed out to me. "How reassuring," I responded; although he still looked too alarmed to comprehend this or anything else I could've said. Then I see him begin to turn into the driveway right accross the street from mine. If only he had heard my snyde comment yet another one of my stupidass neighbors would've been given a much needed... Reality Check.

Bad Hair Day

I'd like to give some friendly advice as a foreword before I write the rest of this. Apparently... two Hebrew National Hotdogs, a bunch of Fritos Scoopes and 18 Beast lights as a sole meal doesn't sit well after 12 hours of nothing else but beer.. I guess these are the kind of things you have to learn through experience. Anyhow, next time I suppose I'll consume something else before I get above sweet 16 and end up wasting 2 beers through regurgitation. I'm only warning people so they dont waste alchohol, by the way.

So lately I've been going back and forth about shaving my head. It'd just be easier and Ive thought.. well why not? The sober, procrastinating version of myself has hindered this goal however so the other night when I was in my best and normal state of mind I decided make sure my haircut happened. Basically out of nowhere, I blasted a bunch of techno/dance music and went to my bathroom. I got my hair-clippers out and without literally any hesitation took a huge swipe down the center of my head, inverse mohawk style. I proceeded to do the same thing once again, then afterward I made a square on the left side of my head and just basically took a bunch of random hair off on the right side. At the time my justification for this was 'this will make sure I finish it tomorrow.'
So the next morning I wake up to take a piss, then look in the mirror by accident and start laughing my ass off. I initially thought about shaving it off then out of how horrid it looks but then I figure, "I'll do it later, when I get wasted." So start getting ready to go to the gas station to get more beer since my case basically gone, I open my backdoor to see how cold it is outside - what my beer run attire will be today... And randomly who is standing right outside my backdoor but Chuck McGovern (Who is almost never, ever anywhere but his room upstairs let alone the backyard, right outside my door; it was definately bad timing, since I was going to see how long I could keep my hairstyle without him noticing). At first he looks at me startled, then double-takes and stares at my head, obviously. Then says 'What happened to your head.' I kind of panic, totally tired, hungover and not ready for this confrontation and say something stupid 'I started cutting my hair and I didn't finish.' That's a Jarred Douglas excuse if I ever heard one.

Chuck: It looks like someone else did it (No doubt, assuming I passed out and someone did this to me.)
Me: Nope it was me.
Chuck: (doesnt say anything and looks around puzzled- thinking of what to say no doubt)
Me: (Stare at him with an akward look, he had to have been trying not to laugh)
Chuck: Oh I bet you probably got drunk or something and thought it was funny...(which is true)
Me: Shut the door in his face.
. . . . .
After I get back from the gas station getting beer....

Chuck: So you didnt finish your haircut yet.
Me: Nope.
Chuck: When are you going to finish it?
Me: Now that you mention it, I think I'm going to keep it like this... for a while.
Chuck: You're going to cut it; you're not going down to Florida like that.
Me: No. I'm not.
Chuck: You're cutting it.
Me: ...Nope (slams door - told).

Needless to say...my hairstyle is still exactly the same.