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Mass Murder, Megan Style [Guess Who Hates Driving]

So, I’m going to argue that mass murder is a-okay with me when it comes to the complete morons who drive around this city.

My morning commute turned from a breezy fifteen-minute jaunt down the highway, to a tangled, fifty minutes of stop-and-go bullshit. What’s wrong with you people? Just because the road is wet does not mean that you’re going to slide off the face of the earth into some ungodly sea-monster’s jaws (though I wish it would).

And what’s even more irritating is that this ridiculously bad driving gets to me EVERY SINGLE TIME I sit at the helm screaming profanity and waving my hands at the hulking dumdums in front of me taking up an obscene amount of space (usually going below the speed limit in the left lane) and my heart rate skyrockets and my stress level reaches a Bruce Banner pants-ripping critical boiling point. Every day this happens.

Do these people make me so crazy because I’m uptight?

Yeah, probably, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have to be on the lookout for other traffic. Nine times out of ten the offender is a small woman in a giant car with a phone glued to her ear.

Can I just shoot them? Get all Michael Douglas and exact my revenge? Anyone with me on this one?

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