Are You There, God? It’s Me, Fed-Up.

I know my diatribes on the driving habits of others have to be getting old, so I’ll make this one quick. After avoiding a head-on collision with a dude who decided to exaggerate his turn around a family riding bikes on the shoulder into my lane, right after a woman blocked traffic because she wanted to turn into Citgo across traffic instead of Shell, right after the tailgaters who got their driving training from Nintendo near-missed my tail within inches, I just have to say something before I go Michael Douglas in Falling Down on someone next time.

I do not judge nor retaliate, nor even wish harm upon another human being, but I have to wonder if a few folks aren’t overdue for a good old smiting.

Maybe it’s the old adage of one rotten apple upsets the cart, but these Granny Smiths affect me in the worst way. I cannot drive anywhere without wondering who these self-absorbed, overly aggressive, tailgating, one-turn-away-from-thankfully-removing-themselves-from-the-gene-pool mow-rons think they are. I need to restore my own hope in humanity, and I’m having a lot of trouble. Remember how brotherly every one was for a heartbeat after 9/11? Wow, that really lasted, huh?

So…God? I leave it in your capable hands, but if I may be so bold to offer my humble opinion, I’d sleep just fine knowing you decided to smite down a few of these bastards to remind them worshipping a false idol includes themselves, and slowly bring our world back into some semblance of order.

I'd like to buy the world a home and furnish it with love,
Grow apple trees and honey bees, and snow white turtle doves.
I'd like to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony,
I'd like to buy the world a Coke and keep it company.

And if that doesn’t work, I’d like you to bring back glass bottles so I have something to chuck at these a*holes.

Amen