Where’s the picture of your head exploding?
Nice peripherals.
I’m trying very hard to forgive you for wasting one of my favorite snacks.
I need some “alone time” right now to work through this
Philistine! You have obviously never eaten them. Snyder’s of Hanover makes the only pretzels I like and their flavored ones are purest ecstacy.
Of course, you meant:
\ I /
– :mad: –
/ I \
Fantastic drawings. This reminds me of a road-trip I once took with some friends in college. We were stuck in an inexplicable 2 a.m. traffic jam on the Jersey Turnpike. About 20 minutes before, we had purchased some fried chicken from the Roy Rogers at the rest stop which turned out to be inedible. Should have known better, but your choices are rather limited on the Jersey Turnpike.
So we’re hanging out, listening to music and trying to ignore the stopped traffic, when this psycho bitch in a Ford Explorer with Florida plates completely loses it. She starts honking her horn, screaming at people out the window, and forcing her way from lane to lane. After a few minutes of this, the traffic started to break up, but this woman was still acting like a maniac.
My friend Kevin had had enough. He asked me to pull beside her. I just thought he was going to flip her the bird or something. You can imagine my surprise when he stood up through the moonroof and began hucking pieces of fried chicken at her.
He got in a couple of square hits on her windshield with the chicken breasts. It left this amazing smear all across the glass, and we were able to get away while she tried to deal with grease and breading.
Jeez.
Now we have to provide visual aids with our rants? I can’t draw! Can I interest you in a few well-chosen adjectives, metaphors, and literary allusions?
Or smilies.
I loved the angry lines. 
Since I work as a crossing guard, I see road rage every day, and often get subjected to it. I’ve seen gridlock exactly as you describe- people clogging up intersections.
After work in the mornings (today included) I drive to school. My commute takes me past a freeway onramp. Because there is a metering light, the line to get on the freeway gets backed up, all the way into the intersection. Now my light is green, but I can’t go anywhere because 15 cars are in the intersection, oriented in various directions. I wish *I * had thought to bring some fast food to hurl at them.
Hmm, McDonad’s pickle slices look like they would stick to cars pretty well… :dubious:
I notice that as your anger radiated from your head, the blue paint of your car suddenly turned much darker. Do you suppose it was due to heat exposure, or was it perhaps bio-electromagnetic radiation? Was it an even color change, or is the paint now blistered and damaged? Did you get the whore’s license number, so you can sue her for damages to pay for a new paint job?
Yep, I’d say he flipped her the bird all right.
And there’s always sound effects.
Bruce_Daddy, you’ve done a certain honor to all pit threads about traffic issues. I can never for the life of me envision the description a poster has offered. I hereby nominate visual aids as a permanent addition to all traffic pits!
DoperChic, this is very *very * strange. I began reading your post and thought “OMG! They’ve been to the intersection of Gay and High, too!” Only to my shock upon clicking the map link to see that you’re talking about Pennsylvania! I spotted the intersection of Gay and High in Columbus, Ohio last summer when in town for a wedding. Why, oh why, is there more than one intersection of Gay and High?
Ummmmmm…How do you know she was a whore?
Did she have magnetic sign on her door that read:
1-900-Rent-A-Ho First timers and Group Rates available.
The illustrations are superb. They are almost like those retarded circle thingies that started the entire “When come back, bring pie.” thing. Deranged, frightening, yet gently homocidal and sublimely disturbing.
Bruce you have ranted yourself into what few Dopers have ever done: Infamy. Noteriety! and the harded to reach, Cliche-dom!
You have raised the bar of Ranting.
I look forward to your next driving adventures 
His best work ever.
We all know The Finger means “Fuck you”. I took it as an invitation, with a fee.
Maybe it would have come with a complimentary STD so you’d have a couvenir.
Mmmmmm… Geriatrically Transmitted Diseases.
I have eaten them, in fact, and I find the honey-mustard ones to be a tasty crunchy snack. Which is all well and good, when I’m in the mood for a crunchy snack. When I’m hankering for a chewy, doughy snack, however, the word “sourdough” on the label quite naturally leads me to believe that I’m about to get one. The presence of the work “hard” on the same label, I initially wrote off as an anomalous paradox, the more fool I.
As to accusations of philistinism, you wound me, sir (or madam, as the case may be). Your apparent ignorance of the bliss that is the proper sourdough-eating experience does not move me to cast you as a benighted savage, although it might so move a man of a less discreet and charitable bent than I. Rather, I shall gather the shards of my shattered dignity, and go sulk in the corner until I am able to regain my composure.
By the way, all hail to Bruce Daddy for his innovative contribution to the nascent craft of Pit-rant composition. You are a man ahead of your time, sir. In some future era, your work may have bagged you a Pulitzer. We may yet hope that, some years hence, a much-needed expansion of categories will yield you a Nobel.
Isn’t a whore for free - it’s a prostitute you have to pay for?