On the Highway to Hell

I've been erratic with my angry rant postage over the last couple of weeks, and for this I apologize. I have a wide variety of almost rational excuses for my laziness. I've been interviewing for jobs. I've been traveling. It was the holidays. None of these however, provide the real explanation for why I've been too busy to spew anger over the internet. The truth is I've been dealing with a personal issues. On a day to day basis I've been facing a lot of unnecessary stress brought on by unexpected events. I guess I should clarify at this point that no family members died in car accidents, and I wasn't diagnosed with cancer. Yeah, my dog didn't even get run over or anything. No, I'm talking of course about the day to day trials and tribulations that come with settling traffic violations. Fighting the unreasonable charges brought against you that could skyrocket your insurance payments at any moment. Dealing with irrational technicalities that could take away your driving priviledges. Basically, resolving all the pain in the dick issues that arise as a result of your encounters with those scum of the earth cockroach dipshits know as the highway patrol.

Traffic cops are the largest ensemble of soulless fucktards known to man. Seriously they can all burn in hell with child molesters, Al Qaeda and the producers of Glee. What a bunch of totally useless assholes. What exactly qualifies you to join the road patrol branch of the boys in blue? I'll tell you what. The inability to be an ACTUAL cop. Basically you got through the academy with a D+ average and are completely unqualified to handle real crime fighting. And by "real crime" I mean you couldn't stop a Walgreens shoplifter or guard an Applebees. I assume when you are too fucking fat and incompetent to chase down America's real bad guys, you automatically get relegated to the pull over police squad. Where you don't have to ever actually put your life in danger "serving and protecting." Where you won't have to actually exert any energy in order to catch your brand of "criminal." Where you can be a total dick at all times and exercise an inordinate amount of power over the Everyday Joe maniacs who think they can cruise at 10mph over the speed limit.

Lets be real here, speed limits are complete arbitrary and don't really ensure the safety of anybody on our nation's roads. First of all, there needs to be some sort of universal speed minimum (outside of school zones). It's impossible to drive 30mph anywhere when you're constantly blasting Rad jams on your stereo. People who drive fast, do so because they know how to fucking drive, and realize when it is safe to go over the speed limit. Think about every speeding ticket you've ever received. Or just think about every ticket I've received. Nobody gets pulled over when there are a decent amount of cars out on the road. Even if they are going 25 miles over the limit. You know those dickheads you see weaving back and forth through traffic in their souped up Asian cars with spoilers and flame designs on the doors? Yeah they don't get pulled over reenacting Too Fast To be With The Fastest Furious part 5. No, the people who get pulled over for hot rodding are the maniacs like me who drive fast when there is nobody out on the open road in front of them. When I am driving fast because there is ZERO chance of me crashing into somebody. Yeah of course that's when Officer Ass Munch decides he's gonna assert his authority over the interstate. Why is this? It's way fucking easier to pull over some guy who's speeding by himself on an empty road, than it is to run down the Ed Hardy Nissan Maxima amidst traffic who may actually cause a wreck.

Once Sergeant Billy McBacon has put down his sub for long enough to click his radar gun and flash his lights at you, the Gestapo act really fucking takes off. Since highway patrolmen and traffic cops (lumping all dickhead pull over police together) never get the chance to bust up a drug den or engage in a shootout with bank robbers, every stop is their shining moment. They wanna fucking search your car with or without cause. They wanna shine their flashlight in your face. They wanna ask you exactly how many miles you've driven today, When you last stopped for gas and what your favorite Bryan Adams song is to throw you off guard. I had a cop tell me that somehow, (based on the fact that I was going a whopping 6mph over the limit) he had reason to believe I may be transporting illegal substances. Really? I have a mini-pinscher, some mittens and a toaster in my backseat. Clearly I am shipping mad keys of YaYo across state lines you perceptive imbecile. Hey why don't you check under my baby blue puppy paw blanket for that unregistered Uzi fucktard?

Generally nothing too serious comes out of my annual run-ins with our nation's super troopers. Other than having to bullshit sick days to appear at court dates, write checks to the county, and wasting afternoons at the DMV explaining my situation to some jackoff with a 3rd grade education. Still the aggravation from talking to cops, judges, attorneys and insurance agents is probably enough to take some years off my current life expectancy of 45. So I still have the right to say fuck you very much to our nation's curbside coppers. Hope pulling me over inched you closer to the big time. Maybe if you drop 20 lbs and record a few more moving violations, they'll entrust you with that sweet crossing guard gig at the local middle school.