Posts Tagged ‘driving’

So as I was on the road to Edinboro today, I closed in on a Honda Fit hybrid with an obnoxious amount of stereotype-predicted bumper stickers affixed to it.  After noticing the faculty tag on the bumper, I immediately knew the driver– and then had a realization dawn on me like a Mack truck without brakes.  This guy, in spite of being a walking caricature of gratuitous activism gone abominably wrong, actually has nothing to do with the revelation– save to illustrate a point.

Hybrids, save some of the newest models that look like “normal” vehicles, look like hybrids.  You know what I’m talking about, so don’t try and claim otherwise.  The lines on these glorified shoeboxes give the illusion of some semblance of performance, and that’s where the performance dies of feckless shame.

Would you like to add the front seat mounted dildo for another smug $3000?

Sure, it looks sleek. I can beat this car off the mark ON FOOT.

Now Greenniks– hold your outrage.  There’s a point to this, because I know you’re not all simpering sacks of douche thinking your car will save the planet.  To be accurate, most greenniks are the wonderful types of people who’d teach you the best way to make/fertilize a garden with of your own sphyncter-deposited shit– while also letting you know what a wretchedly disgusting idea that is.  However this ditty isn’t about enviro-nauts, this is about hybrids.

Yes, we get it, hybrids are good on gas.  I’m betting one of the big reasons that most people aren’t popping the extra cash out to give Big Oil the finger is… well…  besides the gas mileage (which usually isn’t that spectacular) is the only major perk.  Let’s face it, “hybrid” is a sticker slapped on a car that otherwise sucks at being a car.  Calling your wind up toy a “hybrid” might make you feel better about driving a car that makes you look like a joke… but no matter what, it lacks the guts to help you escape after flipping the bird.  Handling?  Please.  Don’t make me laugh.

Lies and slander.

It’s such a well-known fact, even car makers acknowledge it.

Here’s another tidbit– your driving affects your mileage almost as dramatically as the vehicle beneath your ass.  There’s also a novel concept known as hike it once in awhile.  Not to mention– have you looked at the smog that gets pumped outta China these days?  Sure, save the world with your smug little shitbox that can’t outrun an arthritic hamster– because China has three cities with air so chewy you need to cut it with a knife before taking a breath.  For those of you keeping score, there’s way more of them than there are of us… so the miraculous enviro-dent you’re making is akin to taking a gulp of the Atlantic and claiming to have drank the sea like Thor.

Keep your hybrids, I’ll just limit my driving– and enjoy every fuckin’ minute of it when I’m behind the wheel.
Well.  There’s one alternate fuel car that I find attractive to the point of utter arousal:

There we go!

That’s more my speed.

Unplug.

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It’s Rant Time!

Posted: October 15, 2012 in Rant
Tags: , , , , ,

Before I get ahead of myself, I have a great degree of appreciation for Google.  This may come as a surprise to people that I am appreciative of any corporate entity, but seriously?  Google is king shit in my eyes, and this is probably why I’m about to snap script like it’s nobody’s business.  Disappointment is a Hell of a drug, baby, and I got a dose of it straight to the brain over the course of this weekend.  To the codemonkeys who created/update Google Maps, and Google Navigation– you should be ashamed of yourselves.  I mean ashamed.

How, may I ask, can a company that has spearheaded the brilliance that is Android put out a homesick miscarriage like their navigation application?  It’s common knowledge that Google Maps is more than fallible, in fact it lies with the dexterity of a campaigning politician.  I’ve had it try and tell me hotels are somehow lodged within solid rock faces (totally aside from trying to send me across roads that no longer exist).

I wish.

Yeah, no… would have been nice, though.

Getting an erroneous location is bad enough, and it’s downright maddening if you don’t even have a cell signal to call someone and figure out where in the Nine Levels you really are.  Then again, nobody just gets a location anymore and plots a course old school– oh no.  We get to deal with that abomination of Google’s next level of Fail.  Where the map app just lies, the navigation app outright trolls.  Don’t believe me?

Check this this screenshot out, and then take into account this weekend.

Trolling level?  Over 9000.

Notice where the arrow is– there’s no way to see when you’re getting trolled until you realize it made you take a detour FOR NO REASON. Mind you, this detour was two lefts (one off a “main road” and then BACK onto it).  You can’t even say it was a “shorter” route.

So, on Saturday, I’m running late for a wedding– go figure, right?  Me?  Late?  That’d never happen…. unless it was a day that ends in “y.”

I’ll pause for the dumb kids to get that last quip.

Ok, time’s up– this isn’t public school, and I don’t coddle the weak or the lazy.  So with the failtacular screen capture prefacing Saturday’s shenanigans, I’m running late.  I fired up my phone-side GPS, and then put the hammer down.  I had about a half hour to shave off what appeared to be a 150 minute drive…  What I didn’t realize is that this digital abortion was going to route me through a bunch of back roads (through two college towns, no less)– instead of allowing me to take the fast route on multi-lane highways.

The best part?  Well it’s threefold.  Firstly, the stupid program has inexplicably locked itself in top-down 2D mode with North at the top of the screen (as in, no sweet looking navigation like the screenshot, and no directional rotation following your blip).  That I can deal with, I learned how to read a map before there were GPS programs in everything-– so no biggie.  Secondly, same problem mentioned in the freaking caption above– I had no damn idea this bass-ackwards, inbred, bastard child of a real navigation app was trolling again.  Of course, thirdly– there’s that godawful, complacent, digitized bimbo voice…  it’s almost like they want to egg on every case of road rage out there, just by letting their biggest mistake also have a wrath-inducing voice.

Google, step up your game, because this kind of mongoloid fail is something everyone associates with AOL.  Come on, does this make any goddamn sense:  if the program recognizes that there’s a publicized bridge outing yet routes you across it anyway and doesn’t offer alternate routes, what the Hell’s the point of acknowledging the hazard?

Bridge out?  No biggie.

Newsflash: This is NOT my car.

It’s a cute novelty that I can read the license plate on a car with “street view,” but when your maps are outdated from the Carter administration…  what the Hell.  Are you assjacks only hiring Tom Tom rejects?  Because I’m sure not going with confidence here.

When in doubt, suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuure, Google it!  Google knows everything–

— unless, you know, it’s trying to route you the wrong way down a one way street.  Recalculate this, bitches.

Unplug.

10 & 2? Try 12 & Eff You!!

Posted: August 11, 2011 in Uncategorized
Tags: ,

I’ve been driving since I was 16, and road raging for just about as long.  This is nothing surprising.  Before I start sounding like some octogenarian curmudgeon, it’s not like it was that long ago.  Like every other good little citizen who didn’t grow up boosting cars, I learned how to hold a steering wheel– at the famous “10 and 2.”  Everyone repeated the same tired-ass mantra of keeping both hands on the wheel.  In retrospect, adopting that driving model has saved my happy ass on naught fewer than five occasions.  There were probably way more, but I digress.  Like every normal person should, I also learned how to drive one-handed.  Like many people, I also realized that most drivers have no damn business behind a wheel.

In spite of the anti-cellular phone propaganda (as championed by a know-it-all by the name of Oprah), cell phones don’t kill people.  In spite of the obvious warning that drunk people shouldn’t drive, they aren’t even the biggest threat on the roads.  The average grab bag of genetic party favors (see also: a member of the general public) behind the wheel, on an average day, is about as predictable as an IED on a soccer field.  The biggest threat to the road are drivers who clearly got their licences by overly permissive test administrators, who apparently believe driving is a right, and not a licensed privilege.   Many of the barely-sentient drivers out there can barely breathe and shit at the same time (let alone signal), so no freaking wonder studies reveal that cell phones are a “danger.”  Yay for being held to a lower status quo.

Ok, enough ranting, you’re still waiting for the more standard self-deprecating disability humor.  Well hold your damn horses, I’m getting there.

Before I got in a fight with a refrigerator, I had mastered several advanced driving tactics.  I could devour a Big Mac without spilling.  I could tie my necktie.  I could put a knee on the wheel and play air guitar.  I could even dry shave with my trusty Mach 3.  Sometimes I’d even be lucky enough to have my stick shift played with– and nobody above my window-line would have a clue.  Driving has always been effortless for me, and Hell, winter driving is my freaking playground.  It’s just too damn bad there are no local stunt driving schools.  I could totally get behind that.  Hmmmmmm, note to self…

Anyway!  Now, I’ve got my cast resting on the center console, with but my dear Rosie to handle the road.  Parallel parking is an interesting feat, as efficiently shifting from drive to reverse must be handled lefty– as well as anything else.  I figured that being such a gimp on the road would be more difficult than it actually is.  I’m surprised at how many people are downright shocked that I’m still driving.  Really?

Frankly, I’m still waiting for a cop to pull me over.  It’s not hard to see the cast with the way I have it propped up on the center console.  Apparently it’s highly illegal around here to drive in this manner.  I’m not sure why, seeing how the ADA makes provisions for someone who is missing the entire arm.  Either way, these law enforcement members really get off on traffic stops around here– and I’m waiting for one of the bored supertroopers to pull me over.  Hopefully if/when that occasion rolls around, I won’t be abusing my lead foot and V6.  That day, I will finally have a use for the ACLU…  I’ll teach them to oppress a guy with a disability, temporary or not.

In the meantime, I continue to let Rosie handle the wheel– because Jill’s hanging out the sunroof telling the rest of the drivers what I think of them.

Need a translator?

Jill doesn't need a translator. Your driving sucks, and you should be ashamed of yourself!

Oh, I wish I could see the reaction of someone realizing that they got a casted bird from a gimp driving with a knee while downing a Monster.  Talking about adding sarcasm to insult.  Boom.

Unplug.