Warning: this posting will be rife with expletives, an unchagable opinion, and may piss (expletive #1) some of you off. If you don't mind any or all of the above, by all means keep reading. If you think you may be bothered, you're a bigger wuss that I took you for and probably should take my blog off of your fave list.
There IS A DIFFERENCE between the drivers who use 70, 40 and 44. At this point, I'm going to leave 55 out of this discussion because I don't know anyone worthy who lives out that way, hence my travel on that interstate is nil.
Let me break it down for ya:
I-70 drivers: SCARYTOWN WITH BLINDERS OF ENTITLEMENT! They are oblivious to the fact that they are driving with others, and are not alone on the road. They weave from lane to lane, and if they want to get over, no blinker is enacted, just an oblivious "lean" into your lane. And you HAVE to get over because they will CHINK YOUR CAR if you don't move. They're ignorant fuckheads who believe the road belongs to them and them alone. And hey, I'm not going to play the race card here - the drivers I've encountered on I-70 represent all 7 continents, so I believe it comes down to INTELLIGENCE. Driving on I-70 is a game of chicken with a bucket-o-dumb, and I breathe a shakey sigh of relief when I finally merge onto a smarter path.
Hwy 40 drivers: BIG OL' LAND OF LINCOLN! And I mean the car and mentality, not the state, race, nationality, etc. Let's throw some Hummers and Cadi's in there to be well rounded. Can there be any more HUMONGOID VEHICLES that take up a lane and a half? Really, are you going on safari? Or perhaps you are delivering supplies to an outpost in the Middle East and are afraid of mortar attacks? Or maybe you are just carting your kids to one of many practices and need the room so that you don't actually have to interact with them? Either way, you don't own the road - yes, you may own a million dollar house, good for you, but I pay taxes just like you and there needs to be a bit of sharing, twats and twits.
I-44 drivers: MARIO ANDRETTI vs BETTY WHITE! When I get onto 44, I prepare myself for a game of FROGGER. Seriously. In one lane you have Grampa Joe who is clocking in at a turbulent 45 mph, and in the next two lanes over you have a remake of The Italian Job (the Michael Caine spectacular, not the Marky Mark suckfest). So, the question is - do you toddle along behind Gramps and brake every time he brakes (which is every 13 seconds), or engage in the Caine remake as you attempt to get to your exit? So far, I have successfully navigated the "logs" and made it to my chosen "shore", but I fear that someday you may see me sqaushed beneath the wheels of a large tanker...ribbit.
Seriously, St. Louis drivers are the worst on earth. And I can say this because A) I have lived in the four courners of this nation and then some so experience rules, and B) I'm not a native, so I feel more than comfortable placing the blame on those that deserve it...and it ain't me.
Am I stereotyping? A bit. Is it justified? Certainly. It's my blog and I make the rules. And it's a rant - take it for what it's worth.
Now, for a little entertainment to soothe the savage soul:
