In Defense of Tailgating

I live in the suburbs, but I commute downtown to work.

(Technically, that's not true. Thanks to some brilliant Dallas district gerrymandering in the 80s, I actually live in the city of Dallas. I just happen to live in the portion of that city that juts, penislike, into the moist, receptive loins of Carrollton. Did I mention I've been having a lot of sex lately?)

It's about a fifteen mile drive. In light traffic, I can usually make it in around 20 minutes. During rush hour, it takes approximately 17 hours, much of which is spent actually driving backwards. But I don't mind bumper-to-bumper traffic. I've made my peace with it and come to accept it as one of those inevitable hassles of daily life, much like taxes or Chinese people.

But what I hate, what cranks my Road-Rage-o-Meter™ up to 11, is when some jackass decides TODAY is the day he's going to drive in the Grown-Up lane, so he pulls his slow-ass car all the way to the left. And stays there.

So I come zipping up behind him. At first, I try to maintain a respectful distance. Unfortunately, most of these geniuses take that as a sign of my tacit approval of their speed, and so they just stay there, clogging the freeway like a piece of retarded cholesterol.

And so I move up a little closer. And the dumbass decides it's time to teach me a lesson for wanting to drive faster than him, so he slows down. I move closer, and he slows down even more. So before long, there are about three molecules of space between us and we're travelling around 4 MPH. (Which, in metric, is like 7.8 kilograms or something.)

Eventually one of two things happens. Either the dumbshit tires of the game and moves over, or I wind up blasting past him on the right. Fingers are often exchanged. Sometimes gunfire. This IS Texas, after all.

I would like to point out two things, lest you think me a total bastard. One, when somebody going faster comes up behind me, I move over and let him pass. I didn't used to, but that was back in the 80s, when I was a dumb kid. I also voted for the Elder Bush back then.

And two, I only behave like that when I'm alone. If I ever pulled that kind of shit while Stephanie was in the car with me, she'd kick my ass. And not in the good way that involves stiletto heels and a riding crop. Did I mention...

So next time you're in the left lane with a bunch of cars behind you, ask yourself the following questions.

1) Is there anybody in front of me?
2) Am I leading a funeral procession?

If your answer to both of these questions is NO, then FOR THE LOVE OF BABY JESUS, MOVE THE FUCK OVER!!!

Thank you, and good night.

Playing Ketchup Catsup Catch Up!

I know I promised that I would be more diligent about updating back in August. And for three days, I was more regular than a poodle packed with oat bran. But then...

What can I say? It's been a wild and crazy couple of months!

--------------------

Loooove... Exciting and New...
First off, it's pretty much official. Stephanie and I are a couple™ now. We hold hands and gaze adoringly at each other and smooch in public. She's a relatively private person, and the last thing I want to do is start blabbing about all the intimate details of our relationship, so let me simply say that I am getting laid a lot.

Here is a chart of all the sex I've been having since June.



And, interestingly enough, here is a chart of President Bush's approval rating since June.



I'm not implying anything. I'm just saying...

You Gotta Have a J-O-B...
As those of you who occasionally pay me the heed I deserve might recall, I've been on a sabbatical since October 2002, when I left my job as QA Analyst/Urine-Soaked Chew Toy at Brinker International to pursue my dream of laying around all day and watching TV. Oh, and to maybe do some writing.

Well, the stock options, inheritence, and savings finally ran out and I was forced to sink to the level of the gainfully employed and get a goddamn job.

Actually, as far as jobs goes, this gig isn't half bad. I'm doing tech support for Netherland, Sewell and Associates (a petroleum consulting firm). It's a contract gig (they just extended me to the end of December), so I get to set my own hours. I also get an office, with a door and everything!

Way Way Way WAY Off Broadway...
There's a dinner theater here in Dallas called Pocket Sandwich Theater, mainly because their menu features pocket sandwiches. So it's not just a clever name. They are most famous for putting on melodramas, which are comic spoofs where the audience is encouraged to cheer for the hero, boo and hiss at the villain, and sigh wistfully for the damsel in distress. They sell popcorn for 50 cents a basket, not for eating, but for lobbing at the actors while they perform. All in all, it's good clean goddamn family fun.

Anyway, my friend Sean and I wrote a melodrama on spec for Pocket Sandwich Theater. It's called Escape from Stalag 18, and it's making fun of German POW movies. We cribbed our plot from Stalag 17 and The Great Escape, and we borrowed liberally from Casablanca and Patton.

Basically, it's a comedy set in a German labor camp during World War II. So it's sort of like Hogan's Heroes. Only, you know, funny. We submitted it back in October and are still waiting to hear back from TPTB at PST. (That's "The Powers That Be at Pocket Sandwich Theater" for the acronymically challenged.) They're supposed to let us know by the end of November...

I Wanna Be a Paperback Writer...
Steph and I are participating in National Novel Writing Month (abbreviated NAMBLA NaNoWriMo) because we both thought it would be fun to spend some time doing something together. Besides having all that sex, I mean.

The goal is to crank out 50,000 words by the end of November, but I really haven't made a lot of progress. I was working on this really cool story involving the Knights Templar, a lost gospel, a fucked-up televangelist, and a homeless guy who can heal the sick and keeps coming back from the dead. Unfortunately, that one was requiring way too much research and I wasn't getting much writing done, so I put it on the back burner. Now I'm working on another volume in the Verbal Reynard saga, but I've got a lot of catching up to do.

And In Closing, I'd Like To Add...
Bush sucks.

Peace out, dawgs!

The Second Coming of Chris

I'll start posting again starting Saturday.

PROMISE!!!