TTMMLMS #1 WESTERN AUSTRALIAN DRIVERS
Ok, so this is a hammered topic. We all know what everyone says, WA drivers are dog excrement. Well peeps, it's true.
I'm known for having a wee bit of road rage. Not the ram your car into an emergency lane, drag you out of your car and beat you with a tyre iron kind of road rage. More the scream at you with exaggerated mouthing movements, with accompanying finger gestures kind of road rage. Or, using my Bluetooth to call the cops on your texting ass. Here's why:
Indicators: Ok you bunch of tards, this is Indicating 101 for the Motor Skills Impaired.
Indicators are wonderful things. They are not a superfluous contraption added to your car to bulk up the spec sheet. They have a purpose - to tell your fellow roadgoers where you intend to go in your one tonne weapon.
It comes down to courtesy. You may think you are the most important person on the planet. The only such person with a destination who does in fact own the road and is sharing because your mum told you to. Alas no. YOU, along with every other noddy on the road has a duty to tell other people where you INTEND to go. And I say intend, because simply flicking that indicator on for 1/2 a millisecond doesn't give you the right to veer across three lanes of traffic. I know! Mind bending shit this is.
Want more?
Indicating once you are already in a slip lane is in fact moot. The sheer fact you are already in the slip line kinda gave that away. Dick. Head. Coulda done with that info 40 metres ago.
Flicking your indicator on for 3 milliseconds while you are already straddling that funny broken white line whilst simulatanously cutting me off forcing me to brake. Also moot.
An extra special treat is when you do this on the freeway and then break to 80km an hour. WTF. If my pink exploding head could kill then you'd be dog food.
Please indicate when EXITING a roundabout. That's right. You indicate left when approaching your exit. Kinda tells the people waiting to enter at the road after your exit you are getting off the roundabout. Nifty.
Exiting a two lane roundabout from the right hand lane doesn't give you the right to simultaneously veer straight into the left hand lane while accelerating, effectively cutting off the car in front from the inside. I know. Heavy stuff. Same goes when turning right at traffic lights into a two lane street. Moving into the left hand lane is a separate action. Lifting your big fat tuck shop arms for several movements may be tiring, especially if you are driving a manual, but please, think of the children. It's just like driving when eating a cheeseburger except using the other hand in a charitable way, not calorie comsumption.
Getting up my arse isn't gonna make me go any faster. I'm doing the speed limit. I know I have an IQ greater than Forrest Gump and don't need an accelerator to make me feel like I have a big penis. In fact, I have a vagina. Immensly superior, as vaginas can multi-task.
Driving a Commodore doesn't make you Peter Brock. He DID know how to drive and look what happened. Dickheads like you are only alive due to the common sense of all the other drivers who see you coming and get the fuck out of your way. Same goes for WRX drivers and anyone driving clapped-out shitpile rice racers. Your car is shit and so are you.
I know you think you are being awfully sly, but everyone knows you are texting. That's because I'm not texting and using the magic of my rear view and side mirrors to keep check on what you - the dickhead behind me - are doing. Laws exist for a reason you know. Being stupid and ignorant must be awfully taxing, but please try, if only to humour me.
And OH MY GOD - to all those with a straw hat on the rear shelf. Speed limits exist for a reason. While exceeding the speed limit makes you a closet Commodore driver, doing 20km under is also infuriating. Speed limits ensure the flow of traffic. If you are too afraid to do it, take a side street or get the hell off the road.
Taxi drivers. Shit. I don't have the energy for this one.
And there you have it. For now. My shit has been lost.
Until the next installment, if you see a black Nissan Dualis*, behave yourself or I'll hit the cops on voice command faster than you can text 'OMG'. They are sick of me and it's all your fault.
*Haha, I know, there are lots of us. Which one am I? Douche.
