Road Rage

Road Rage is a funny thing. I don�t possess a lick of it. If you want to risk your life to get to the stop light 15 seconds before me, then be my guest.Getting there first has nothing to do with dick size. I am more than happy to get out of your way.

I�m a stop and smell the roses and let other cars in front of me kinda driver. It's good karma to be kind and I just don�t care enough to get upset.

The Journey is the reward.

Hawk however is another story. He�s a Leo, you know. He doesn�t believe that other people should be allowed to drive on HIS streets. I drive a cute, passive little faux sports car. Hawk drives a big, bad intimidating SUV. The Ford Expedition. I have lived in apartments that are smaller.

I blame his upbringing. Hawk�s home town has 250 people. If two Indians stop their trucks in the middle of Main Street to chat, it�s considered a serious traffic jam. You can drive 120 mph on those backroads of central South Dakota and no one much cares, except maybe for a herd of buffalo.

Hawk�s favorite driving expletive is �C�mon Grandma, Give it some Gas!� The gender or the age of the driver that is slowing him down makes no difference. I won't say he uses the phrase a lot, but Maria�s first words in English were �C�mon Grandma! Gas!�

Other Hawk expletives, with Maria not in the car, include him naming the price of the car and then �and you don�t even know how to drive the fucking thing�. For example, a sweet Lexus SC430 is lollygagging in front of Hawk. He�s grumbles �$65,000 and you don�t even know how to drive the fuckin� thing.�

He subscribes to Consumer�s Report. What can I tell you?

I have also heard on occasion these classics �Drive it or build a garage around it� and �Where did you get your license? The Sear�s Catalog?�

Now just in case you don�t believe that my Hawk owns the streets, let me relay to you a little story:

We are driving home and there are at least 15 cars in the right lane and no cars in the left lane. Those 15 cars are in HIS imperial way, so he switches to the left lane. Places to go, people to see! What those 15 cars know that Hawk doesn�t know is that there is an orange barrel overturned in the left lane up ahead. He finally sees the barrel and goes ballistic, pounding on the steering wheel and saying nasty things about the barrel�s mother.

Suddenly, like Moses parting the Red Sea, the barrel rolls into the right lane. The right lane comes to a screeching halt, while Hawk cruises through, inviting the right lane drivers to �eat his dust�

He slaps me on the thigh and laughs manically, as if the sheer force of his dynamic Leo personality moved the barrel. 'How about that, Babe? he asks me.

I suggest anger management

Hot Fun in the Summertime 2

I am totally in love with all your summer imagery. Apparently the visitors to Justinland all enjoy fresh summer fruits and sweaty sex. Well, who doesn't. If you haven't contributed yet, just click on the BACK button right under the goatboi's bare buns and read the comments.

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