Fuck somebody needs to revoke my license before I kill somebody. It's a dark, dank, acidic rain fallen day in the City of Agua Dulce. As I was arriving to the homestead two minutes ago, a Sparkletts Drinking Water delivery fan had cut off my normal 90yz slant post pattern route in which I normally take to the favela of my dismay. Being that I'm an impatient American who can't wait a fraction of a second for the van to pass by, I proceed to the next block and make a left on a green light, as I notice that no cars were approaching at the time. As I turn to make a left, out of thin air appears a middle aged Mexican who more than likely arrived in this country not less than a month ago. I brake in order to avoid the collision that would crumble my pocketbook like a seventh string concubine on Constantine's Byzantine man-rind. He shuffles forward out of the way of my oncoming jalopy with the agility of a gazelle on the plains of the Serengeti. Feeling like a cad, I throw my hand up to say "hello", in a silent gesture of "Welcome to my land". He in turn just smiles back grateful to be in a country that offers health care to all.
Fuck!!!!!! I've been driving for 9 years with no accidents. Now this week alone I've been in a fender bender and came inches away from committing vehicular manslaughter. Good fucking shite!!! I might have to go back to riding the subway with all the guitar heroes.