5 Things I Hate About Interstate 95 and the People Who Frequent its Lanes.

There is a movie with Michael Douglas where he snaps and goes ape shit.  He just looses it. One second he is stuck in a traffic jam, and the next, he has gone berserker—absolutely out of his mind.  Over the past few weeks, I have become that man; the interstate has changed me.  Like a vampire bite from a real vampire—think the ones from Lost Boys (I am certain they used real vampires), I am slowly turning undead.* That asterisk means see the note at the bottom of the blog.  

I hate to think that the subject of my blog is going to shift to cover traffic in at least every blog I write, but my life has gone this way.  I actually thought about bringing beer with me to drink while I am on Interstate 95, because you are not actually driving while in traffic.  You are sitting in traffic with your foot on the brake, releasing the brake, and then engaging the brake.  I have done much more difficult things drunk….hell, I have conceived a child drunk….just saying.  I believe that, in order to drive, you actually have to utilize the gas pedal.  On Interstate 95 in Northern Virginia, you don’t use the gas pedal, but what you do get on Interstate 95 are five of the worst parts of humanity.  Sharing the world with other humans is difficult once you have spent as much time as I have in the past four weeks.  Here is a list of five things that people on the freeway do that make no sense.

1.  Merging improperly.  I can probably re-write this and cover the crux of the problem by stating, Merging at Speed.  Hint:  Listen closely, my loyal followers, if you speed up to the exact same speed or just quicker than the flow of traffic, you will merge seamlessly.  Drivers will actually realize what you are doing and be able to adjust and let you in using a slight slowdown.   To merge properly, you also need to grow a pair of huevos (Spanish for eggs, but in this case, I am making a reference to balls.)  Timid drivers should buy a Vespa, utilize the shoulder, and choke themselves.  .  .   
2. Changing from the slow lane you are in to another lane just faster than the one you are in next to you.  Let me explain to the culpable drivers, that the lane you just switched into is faster solely because the drivers have decided we don’t all need to be asshole to bellybutton with the person in front of you.  Meanwhile, what you really have accomplished is causing every car behind you to slow down and enter into the slinky effect.  You are most likely the reason for the traffic jam you are in or others like you ahead that are making the same poorly thought out decision.  If I could run you off the road, I would.  You are still alive by the grace of God.  
3. Rubbernecking.  People on the side of the road or in an accident of some sort are very interesting, and I am not going to lie, I rubberneck, but here is the thing.  I rubberneck after I am already stuck in the mess previous rubberneckers have made. There are some responsibilities that the initial cars near the wreck or whatever mess is ahead are required to bear.  This is called the burden of responsibility; I know, this will be tough, but it is price of leadership.  You have to press, you have to continue ahead, we don’t want death and destruction because you failed to stop, but slowing down and voyeuristically watching suffering, will not save the day.  Get through the ambush zone, people.  
4. This is the worst.  Creepers.  These people pass you and look into your car to see what is up.  Usually it is a man with a beard and sunglasses and they kind of slow down to get a good glimpse of the insanity they must believe to be happening next to them.  I know this creeper was really hoping that I was some hot, young, twenty year old driving a Dodge Ram with a massive trailer hitch down the road.  I can only imagine the disappointment in his heart when he saw my big, ginger ass picking my nose in what I thought was an impenetrable cone of privacy.  If you are a female on I-95, I feel sorry for you.  However, if you are a female looking to feel better about yourself for some reason, I recommend hitting up I-95 and sitting still there for awhile, you might just meet the man of your dreams, or gain the confidence you need to make it through the rest of your day.
5. The Phantom Accident.  Often, I have been stopped in traffic here in Virginia.  When things start moving, I wait to see the carnage and I never see anything.  No emergency vehicles, no cops, nothing.  What just caused the problem?  Here is my opinion:  Police cars parked in the median.  If you are travelling 70 miles per hour, and you think you are in the clear, and then happen upon a police car waiting to nail you for your 5 MPH transgressions, and you believe it is necessary to ram on your brakes and slow to 50 MPH you are a moron.  Firstly, your logic is horrible and you should be killed.  There is nothing more guilty looking than a kid stealing a cookie from a cookie jar who yanks his hand back so violently that he surprises himself.  Secondly, you are a puss.  If you’re going to travel at speeds in excess of the speed limit, I am going to need you to grow a pair of huevos (Spanish for eggs, but in this case, I am referencing balls).  Own your sins.  If you are going to speed do it with authority.

That is my list of 5.  If you have more feel free to comment.  I will include them in another blog that will be much more well written and interesting.

PS.  I found the gun I lost.  I am happy that it was not in my car whilst I am stuck on the interstate.  It was located exactly where I told Whitney.  I must be brilliant because I put the gun in the room I would most likely be in during a home invasion…..The master bathroom, in the third drawer from the top.  This makes perfect sense; I just wish Whitney would have listened better when I told her where I put it.  If this paragraph made less sense than my last few paragraphs, read last week’s blog.  All is safe and in its proper place here now, I am better prepared for attack, so bring it on.

*When making analogous references to vampires with respect to Heath Phillips, it is imperative that you think Lost Boys and not other recently prevailing vampire subcultures where the vampires glow, feed on animals, have sexy hair, vampire baseball games, and most importantly fall in love with horrible acting civilians who are entirely too breathy.   Also, I don’t like vampires who enter into treaties of any kind, especially treaties with werewolves.  Werewolves would never enter into a treaty with vampires who strictly feed on animals.  This is not a logical thought process.  I am also not convinced that a vampire can still conceive children.  I believe vampire sperm is complicated. If you’re not going to give that to me, then we will never agree on anything.   I just wanted you to know, because I have been holding it in for years.