Friday, July 17, 2009

Road rage & 1990s children's programming

If any of you have ever been in the car with me, you'll know I'm a pretty neutral driver. I do the speed limit, I mumble about how the guy behind me is being a dick, and I just go on my merry way. No road rage, no speeding, nothing. It's the farthest from Vin Diesel you'll ever encounter, actually.

Today on route 9 I see a sedan come peeling up behind me. I glare in my rearview mirror and ignore her. Suddenly I see that she's doing the classic attempt of trying to change lanes to pass me, but lo and behold: all of us are generally doing the speed limit. She's stuck behind my ass.

She starts revving her engine a bit to try and push me to speed up. I stare back in my mirror at her and see a sight that startled me greatly.

She was in her mid 40s, had frizzy orange hair, and a vibrant purple/pink shirt on. My jaw dropped. I knew this woman. Let me tell you: I knew her well.

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What happened to sweet Ms. Frizzle to turn her into a raging cunt?

Perhaps she lost her magic school bus since her DUI and never recovered since.

Could it be that her pet dinosaur left her behind with a note that said "thanks for good times, but we've grown apart..."

Maybe her tenure didn't hold out when she didn't recieve all the signed permissions slips and lost one child in a vat of stomach acid.



As I watched her ride the bumper of my car, I gasped in realization of what was really going on. Clearly she was high on methamphetamines, thought she was back in her old magic bus, and was attempting to go on an adventure in my colon.

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Not today, Ms. Frizzle. Not today.

1 comment:

Toni Allen said...

Did you disappear off the face of the planet, woman? Find me on facebook cuz I miss your guts.
~ Toni Templeton-Allen