Ok, I'm pissed off again so I shall employ this platform for my rant! Let me describe a scenario and I ask you, my dear readers, to keep an open mind. Person B is in the act of obeying the law. Person A comes along and wants to break the law. Why, oh please explain to me why, Person B should feel any obligation or duty to enable, facilitate, or otherwise assist Person A to break the very law that Person B is obeying. Logic would dictate that the premise is ludicrous at best! Ponder the scenario thusly: Person B and Person A are walking down the street, when A decides that he wants to knock off the liquor store on the corner. Given the parameters of the described scenario, B would be expected to be an accomplice, simply by virtue of his geographical placement near A. Seems silly right? Oh but apply that kind of twisted logic to a freeway, where law-abiding B is driving the posted speed limit in the left lane of the freeway because there are so many slower drivers in the other lanes. Here comes A (which clearly stands for asshole!) running right up on the bumper of B, flashing his brights and even honking his horn because, after all, the whole world should know how important A is, right? So please, by all that is holy, explain to me why I am expected to move over and allow the asshole to fly past me while I am driving at the posted speed limit. Why should I be inconvenienced by having to change lanes just so some jerk can exceed the speed limit? Lane changes are inherently more dangerous than driving within a single lane, so by expecting the law abiding driver to move out of the way exposes him/her to greater risk of a collision, while the speeder proceeds safely on his/her way. Logic? Out the window! Fairness? Non-existent! The only intelligent, logical conclusion is that if you are driving at the posted speed limit, and some asshole comes up behind you, let the asshole go around you if he wants to speed. A law-abiding driver should never be expected to make it easier for another driver to break the law. Period. End of story.

(I thought I had already posted this here but apparently it was overlooked. So, now, just because I wanted to, here it is.) I had completed a task at my job yesterday (October 2013) and I was silently admiring my work when irony descended upon me. Damned irony and its smug ass self! I began to laugh one of those big belly laughs but I knew it was simply a ruse to keep the tears at bay. The company owner had ordered some marketing postcards to send to her list of contacts in honor of Thanksgiving. Along with the obligatory marketing catch phrases, she had included her family recipe for pecan pie. The fallibility of Spell Check notwithstanding, when her recipe came to the point where the recipe directed to “pour the mixture into a prepared pie crust,” all 250 of her postcards read, “ . . . pied crust.” In toying with different plans to rescue the project, I discovered that the printing was fresh enough to sit gingerly on top of the heavy card stock and could simply be scraped off: brilliantly simple, right? Plus, the finished repair job was so effective that one would have to really look closely to even notice that there was anything at all that was ever amiss. Doing so however, required a very sharp knife or razor blade, a steady hand, and a gentle touch, so as not to mar the card stock. One little mis-scrape of the blade, and there went the darned e at the end of pie. So I had sat for two days scraping my big fat ass off and I was so proud that I had salvaged what would have been either a waste of the company’s marketing dollars or worse, the damage to the image of the company that couldn’t even spell pie. Yep, it was a job well done, no doubt. Then . . . irony, damn you! Not so very long ago, I remember a time when being proud my work or having a sense of accomplishment about my job meant something very different. I have always taken pride in my work. Back in the day though . . . if I had done a really good job it meant that someone’s family was made to feel more comfortable, or a really sick person’s pain was relieved, or that a critical change in condition was reported to the doctor so that the right treatment could be given. Dammit, I literally saved people’s lives!!! I made a difference in someone’s life because I kept a mother from dying too soon or I gave someone another five years or ten years with a loved one. Good God, my work was an extremely meaningful contribution to the world and to humanity. So I laughed because I was proud of scraping a “d” off of 250 pieces of what most people were going to consider junk mail. How horribly pathetic is that?