Dear No Driving Fuck,
When I was a small child, I was taught to look both ways before stepping off the curb to cross the street. Only when there was no traffic in either direction, was I to cross. As I've grown older, listening for automobiles has also factored into this safety equation. So, when I step off the curb to cross the parking lot, that means I have neither seen nor heard any motorized vehicle within the last 10 to 15 seconds.
Then you come screaming around the corner. You dumb son of a bitch! Do you think the speed limit signs are posted just for you & your punk ass friends to stick crappy band stickers to? It was always my belief that they were there to inform you at what speed you should operate your heap of shit car. The fact that it can even get over 10MPH still amazes me. You know, your car might not be such a heap if you didn't drive over the speed bumps like a bat out of hell. That, however, is beside the point.
You would do well to hede the advice of my friend Cerf. According to him the posted speed limit is the absolute
fastest you should go. Ever. Period. Yes, Mr. Cerf will liberate anything that's not bolted down, but he'll never drive over the speed limit. He's a smart man. To an extent. Again, this is not the point.
How people like you were ever granted a license in the first place amazes me. Maybe you don't even have one. I'd like to find out though.
Consider this your only warning. Next time, that giant bag of trash I am carrying, well, its going to become your new hood ornament. Should you ever be so unfortunate as to get that piece of crap within inches of one of my dogs, I'll hurt you. Badly. Then, then they are carting you off in the ambulance, I'll riffle through your wallet & see if you actually have a license.
I'd like to add one thing in closing. May the fleas of 10,000 camels infest your nether regions & may your arms be too short to scratch.
The Rabid Bitch You Almost Hit This Morning