Gee, foster, you should have added a bitch about your son going to Florida while you were stuck in Harrisburg.

Fucking winter.

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Exactly.

I'm not greedy. I want one per hour of my time. For the same kind of reasons that I didn't switch the radio station in hopes of hearing something that would either piss me off even more, or ameliorate some of my anger (which never comes, it never does) ---I just expect and anticipate some level of justice in this world, especially when it comes to those traffic accidents.

I figure if you tie up hundreds of thousands of people, most notably me...well, you owe us. If your stupidity and impatience causes the rest of us to have a miserable holiday experience, it's only fair that you pay for your friggin' selfishness with your life. I have honed this expert analysis over the years by having to deal with these morons over a good chunk of it.

Mercedes-Benz station wagon...That was one of the wrecked vehicles. It is almost self-explanatory, that car. I'll explain my thought process upon viewing that to St. Peter when I get there...He will have to make his ruling on that, but it probably means a trip to warmer climes for yours truly as well...

That whole trip got sprung on me one day prior, with my clueless wife (due to her phobias-no idea what the traffic in the megaloplis is even like) and son, who slept through the whole friggin' trip except to interject some "Oh ya's" on the commentary about the Pack because he's a friggin' Ravens fan...

The good news is that he's gone for a month, which on the whole beats the shit out of me having got on that plane, lol.

As most that have to go through those jams on a regular basis know (but never admit)--- Half the problem is what is always referred to as "rubber-necking"---

Rubbernecking is a charitable euphemism for demanding a body count.

Yesterday, I have to make a trip to the vet for some pain pills for the dog (arthritis from knee surgery a few years back). So, anyway, the most recent winter fuck job (ice/freezing rain/blowing snow version 2.0) has me creeping along at 45 mph and wondering whether I should be going 35-40 and why the heck I like this dog this much. Of course, there's several cars behind me. Fortunately, the guy immediately behind me isn't tailgating (though the rest in line, being Iowa fuckheads, are).

Two cars back, the dude in Dodge Ram 3500 with the double back tires zooms decides to pass in a piece of road that all stars have to align to allow safe passing in June. Zooms past us, probably doing 60. Misses an oncoming car by what seemed like 3 feet, but was probably 6-9.

I'm sitting there contemplating...if they hit, I'm toast. If I brake, I start a multiple car collision of my own. Prick.

But I get the pills for the dog, stop by the grocery and get the lutefisk for The Mom, turn on the highway to come home....guess who's in front of me. The same asshole in the white Ram.

I hate winter. I hate Iowa. You know you're in trouble when the *smart* people in the state eat lutefisk.

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