Maniacal Moves

This shit sucks. Shhhh. I had lunch with my wife on my "day off." It kinda pisses me off. Every time I stay home sick from work, my wife is like, "You can come have lunch with me!" And she's so goddamn cute when she says it, too. Makes it easy to understand how people can kick puppies. I'm home. For a reason. Home, sick. Not at work. Like I should be. Why am I gonna shower and dress and stress on these fucking city roads with their country-bumpkin drivers?

Thank goodness for spellcheck. This tequila rocks!

So, my wife thinks I drive like a maniac as it is, and I do. But goddammit, as far as she's concerned, I DO NOT! I'm a suicidal surgeon on the road. Precise, controlled, purposeful, kamikaze. It's not the same as jackasses who think they're the greatest driver, but that it doesn't matter 'cause they're also invincible. You know the trick to success? Suicidal tendencies. No shit. Try to kill yourself, and JUST YOURSELF out on the roads, you'll be amazed at how great your progress is.
I think it's like that with everything...

So I'm driving to see Glass. I got rules on the road. Rules no one should break in my world, not even me. One is, if you fuck up and miss your turn--

Hold on, my vision is clearing up; mas tequila...

If you miss your turn (Korn is cool, Pandora is better, Sauza is best), don't fuck everybody else by making a right turn from the left lane or grid-locking traffic because you thought you might try something with brass. If you didn't have balls ten minutes ago, you don't now. Keep driving. Like dirt on your hands--there's soap in the restroom--there's another turn ahead, fix it there you shitbrick.

By the way, never trust an asshole with a Sunoco sticker on their car. They're crazy. Dangerous crazy. Only to be outdone by those cocksuckers who have a complex 'cause they drive a minivan instead of a muscle car. Worst is a minivan WITH a Sunoco sticker. Satan's cronie right there. People with NASCAR stickers? Slowest sackless motherwhoring bastards on the road. Is this you? Stay the fuck off the road, then!

So, on the 590, Road work signs. I thought they only came out at night...? Left Lanes Closed. We all merge right, tick fucking tock. My wife's half hour lunch ticks away. Then, two twit Troopers disturb the fray by merging, with lights, from the shoulder on the right. Now everybody feels compelled to drive 5 under the speed limit. You think this makes the cock-owning, gun-toting drivers of those cop cars happy? I bet they curse you all. Slowing down, slowing them down. Here's what should be a crime: There was NO Construction. None. All that hoopla for nuttin'. Goddammit! That shit should be illegal. Take down your fuckin signs during off hours.

The confusion left me in the wrong lane to access my wife's work exit. I speed up, check my mirrors, and break my Rule. Official Ass hole move. I swerve over the yellow hash marks and three lanes at 70 mph to get my lane. And curse myself all the way to my wife's work. Fucking lowlife hypocrite!

Back home, better part of an hour back into sleep, my boss calls. Until my back heals, I shouldn't come back to work. (hitting these keys is kinda hard--mas tequila!). That's right. Laid off again.
FUCK!!! An hour of calming down through music, I call my wife. She pisses me off. She always gets all condescending and then states the Fucking obvious. I NEED MY JOB. IT PAYS FOR MY FUCKING PHYSICAL THERAPY. Duh. It also probably fucks my back. Thirty, sixty, hundred-twenty pounds all day. Hmmm.

I call my phys therapist. Discuss some OBVIOUS shit. Then some not so obvious. Call my boss, gush apologies, admit to reaming doctors and loved ones, promise it won't happen again. We agreed, I should be back Monday. Call the wifie, as commanded, tell her that if I gotta bust my ass at this job with my back like this, I'm gonna be the lazy motherfucker at home. So pick it up. And stressin' over getting a house? Fuck that too. I made her a list of specific pictures I want of every house and charged the camera. I wish I had a bottle of Valium to wash down with this tequila. Hey! It's Heath Ledger! Loved your performance as Joker. My life was completed by that movie! Wanna play Joker and I'll play Batman? If I get frisky, maybe we can play Brokeback Mountain and you can suckie-suckie, eh! Just kidding, folks. That's fucked up. But at least I'm laughing. That's progress, right?

I better crawl back into bed. I think I just achieved drunkenness for the first time since Nibor, 10 years ago. That incident landed me in jail. This could get ugly! LOL!