Throw Momma From The Brain #dark #morose #skipit
What are the odds? My wife and I are just lucky I guess. In the span of only a few weeks we got to witness not one but two horrible displays of human nature, and both in the same place.
There’s a tiny little cafe in our town where the prices are decades behind the times and the portions are huge and the food is yummy. The service is old school and top notch. It’s a tiny little place around the corner from the music store where they still peddle ancient things like CDs. The cafe doesn’t offer wifi and they don’t take plastic. It’s cash only. There are only eight booths. It also happens to be the kitchen side of a local bar. Going there is like traveling back in time.
Except for one thing. The iDevices. This evil spawn has infected even our little cafe. Dammit.
Recently we saw an elderly couple come in and sit on the same side of a booth and wait. Soon they were joined by their daughter and granddaughter, both of whom had their noses buried in their iDevices. I’m not even sure they said hi. Finally all together it was time to order.
What happened next was the damnedest thing.
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Bonus Post: Drivin’ It Home!
This post is brought to you by your friends at the emotion “anger” – a proud sponsor of the American dream.
In the beginning I made this blog. It took six beers. On the seventh beer I rested. Ooops. Did I go too far?
It’s time for a mid-post reboot. Eat that, J.J. Abrams.
In the beginning of this blog, I worried a bit that it would be all about the wacky wide world of driving. Somehow, someway, I found the intestinal fortitude to branch into other areas and a guru was born. Yeah!
Even though, sometimes I have to return to my roots. This is one such time.
Tonight on the way home I began to notice that something was amiss. An urban assault vehicle in the lane next to me seemed to be going out of its way to seriously fuck with my Wheaties.
I tried to be calm. I tried to not let it bother me. I tried to assume it wasn’t personal.
A few seconds later I blew up. It probably didn’t help that I was still recovering from a self-induced embolism early in the day at the shit sandwich factory. I probably shouldn’t have been driving in my condition.
I tried to get around and in front of the asshole. No dice. Same result when I slowed down and tried to get behind. This person was clearly messing with me and I had no clue why. I hadn’t done anything wrong. As usual I had been a perfect angel, an innocent babe in the woods, yet somehow the Universe was giving me the what for.
Finally I was about to get around the idiot. As I went by, I turned to look at my opponent and gave the classic stare down of “I’m passing you, motherfucker.” Also known as the glinty eyes of steely death.
WHAT IN THE NAME OF FUCK?
It was a woman who looked like she had stepped out of that famous American Gothic painting by Grant Wood. Her hair was pulled back tighter than … well, suffice it to say it was pretty damn tight. The only thing missing was the pitchfork. I assume that was in the back of her gigantor SUV.
And …
S H E W A S R E A D I N G ! ! !
I repeat, “She was motherfucking goat clusters of evil reading.” She had something stretched across her entire steering wheel and she was driving at the same time she was intently studying it.
This was game on time. She picked the wrong time, wrong guru, wrong place to beg for someone to finally straighten out. It’s never too late to teach an old dog new tricks, right?
My lawyer advises me to cut this post short. But he will let me add this:
FUCK!
Shouts from the Abyss 
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