Old people driving…

So here’s the thing: We all know that most old people are a hazard on the roads, and it just doesn’t make sense to me that we don’t have a law that says hey you old fucker, guess what? You don’t have a drivers license anymore because you couldn’t pass the eye test and you parked your Lincoln in the lobby of the DMV. I have personally witnessed an old man in the DMV in front of me in line not be able to pass the eye test and yet they issued him a new and current license. I know this because while I sat down waiting for my license this old guy sat next to me and told me that he couldn’t see if the little red dot was inside or outside of the box. Apparently he didn’t bring the right glasses. That’s okay Mr. Johnson, here’s your new license, try not to kill anybody. I mean, we make people wait until their sixteen before they can get a drivers license because our government thinks that before your sixteen your not responsible enough or able to operate a vehicle. I don’t know about you, but I would rather have a thirteen year old kid driving next to me than a eighty five year old person who can’t see, hear, slam on the brakes when needed or even understand what a round a bout is. Old people and driving is like giving a hand gun to a monkey, they can kill you or themselves at any given moment.

You smell bad.

So here’s the thing: One of my biggest pet peeves on the planet is people who smell bad. Is it really that difficult to keep yourself clean enough that you don’t stink? For the love of God man!! I’ll cut you some slack if your homeless, not to say that a stinky homeless person doesn’t piss me off if I’m close enough to have their funk go into my brain, but they at least have a valid excuse for not bathing on a regular basis. You know the people I’m talking about. The people that have B.O. for no fucking reason other than they don’t give a shit about personal hygiene! There’s a difference to a little stink because you had a long day working construction or if you spend a good couple of hours at the gym (no idea what that feels like), but the funky B.O. that is clearly from lack of washing your gross body with soap and water is a different animal. Hey old ladies, your shitty smelling perfume that you put on with a paint sprayer isn’t much better! What the fuck is that all about, you turn sixty years old and run out and by a perfume that smells like a half gallon of Fabreze sprayed on a litter box that hasn’t been emptied in a month. Guess what sweet heart? I’m not winking at you, your making my eyes burn with that garbage you call “Mystic Rose”. Take a shower you smelly fuckers!

Really lady?!

So here’s the thing: I went to a sub shop today and ordered a number nine. A number nine comes with turkey, roast beef, Swiss cheese and mayonnaise. When the girl was making the sandwich she asked “Do you want the bacon?” WTF is that?! Do I look like I don’t need the bacon? Just because I’m sweating while standing in line and lost my breath ordering doesn’t mean I don’t want the bacon. The number nine comes with bacon, so If I didn’t want the bacon I wouldn’t order the number nine, or I would ask to hold the bacon. By the way sweetheart, it doesn’t look like your missing too many meals either.

Now I’m just sad…

So here’s the thing: Just when I’ve gotten to a place where I’m not too worried about being a thirty seven year old bachelor and even managed to find some optimism, I get kicked in the teeth a sent back to the beginning. Why you ask? I was driving home from work the other day whistling in the car and snapping my fingers to some nice little tunes on the radio when I stopped at a busy intersection. While waiting for the light to turn green something caught my eye about the homeless guy begging for money on the corner. He had himself a little homeless girlfriend! So basically the homeless have more luck when it comes to love that I do. Something about that is just sad. 🙂