If it wasn’t for us, you’d all be speaking [insert language here].

I’ve seen so many stupid and idiotic car stickers since living in Las Vegas, and whenever I see them I judge the driver, hate them through the windscreen [windshield], and move on with my life.

However, I recently saw a car sticker that annoyed me on so many levels, I just had to share it with you.

Or, maybe it’s because the sticker was printed in English?

Just a thought.

In fact, if I WAS reading it in another language, that would be another reason to thank a teacher, wouldn’t it?

Surely?

(shrugs)

Now, I’m not arrogant enough to misunderstand the sentiment of supporting the troops; I’m all for it. In fact, one of my best friends has three children in the Navy, but the jingoism of this sticker made my bum twitch.

However, as I was sat in traffic behind this numpty, and waiting 3 hours for the lights to turn any colour other than red, my mind wandered and I started thinking…

Maybe people don’t realise that even if the USA loses every single conflict they’re engaged in, we will STILL be speaking English. This is because – and prepare yourself for a massive revelation that will change your life – no-one is invading and occupying America.

At least, not yet.

Although, all joking aside, Maybe it really is believed, by many, that if the USA is forced out of the Middle East, everyone in America has to start speaking Pashto or Dari.

If that’s the case….زه بیرته انګلستان ته ځم

(Oh yeah, this guy knows how to use Google Translate)

Sick of commuting

On the drive into work this morning, I was stopped at a red light. This was unusual because, oh…wait…no it wasn’t.

I hate red lights.

There were three or four cars in front of me as we all sat there for around half an hour waiting for the fucking lights to go green. After a few minutes the driver in front of me opened their1 car door and appeared to vomit directly onto the tarmac.

Classy.

Then again, this is Las Vegas during the days between Christmas and New Year, so I suppose it’s not that unusual, right? There is a lot of drinking going on around this time.

What concerned me the most was that I was worried more about rolling my tyres [tires] through their previous evening’s poor fast food choices than the fact the driver might still be drunk.

Then it occurred to me that maybe the driver hadn’t been sick at all, but had simply dumped out their coffee cup.

That made more sense as I could see there was a little bit of steam rising from the dark puddle of questionable fluid slowly spreading out across the road.

Then the lights turned green and the traffic started to move.

As I approached the puddle of coffee I decided to drive around it, no longer concerned about the level of inebriation of the driver, but by the fact the ‘coffee’ appeared to have some lumps of – I want to say – carrot?

So, not fast food then.

Which is it? You be the judge….

1 – I didn’t see the driver, so let’s play the pronoun game!

Stick it to me, baby.

I get stuck in traffic a lot, especially when commuting to and from work because, well, there are more idiots on the road at those times (myself included1). As a result, I get the joyous and underwhelming opportunity to read the various stickers people adorn their cars with.

And they use them a lot in America!

From the Jesus fish…

Jesus, would you look at these!?

…and the ‘My offspring is serving in the Army/Navy/Air Force’…

Everyone gets a participation trophy

…to the various forms of ‘Coexist’ I’ve seen.

Holy Idealism, Batman!

But nothing sums up ignorance like the two stickers I have seen a lot of recently.

And no, it’s not a collection of pointlessly stupid stick figures of family members.

Get ’em Darth! GET ‘EM!

No, these stickers are as follows:

If you don’t have the same views as me, I will shoot you

And this one:

Be nice to each other, or so help me I will kill you.

I get the feeling these stickers are supposed to portray pride and like-minded thinking in this fine country, but they’re pretty aggressive if you ask me (and this is a statement from a thick skinned Brit living in the land of the thin skinned…so that’s saying something!)

For me, it boils down to this:

“If y’all ain’t gon’ be wit’ us, then we’s gon’ shoot y’all….so help me God”

(I’m sure he won’t).

These stickers aren’t a display of Patriotism; they’re Jingoism at it’s most prevalent.

Maybe this would be more appropriate?

Seems about right

So remember, if you won’t share this post with all your friends and family, then feel free to…erm….feel free to….er….not?

 

1 – Not true.

A truck filled with wood, plastic and all things irony

This morning I was driving behind a pick up truck filled to capacity with an assortment of ladders, poles, planks, pointy metal things, tubing, plastic containers and other dooberrywhatsits I couldn’t describe if my life depended on it.

One of the things I CAN describe is the big white sticker on the back that read ‘Safety Is My Number One Goal’.

I noticed this sticker just before he violently mounted the central reservation (median) and nearly scattered indescribable carnage across the road like the dramatic end of a drunken Jenga match.

So that was terrifying.

Jesus Trucking Christ

My wife and I were in traffic when we saw these two rival gardening and landscaping trucks side by side. 

The one on the left appears to be heavily influenced by religion. 

But that’s nothing… 

With the one on the right, you get to actually speak to Jesus. 

Who you gonna call?

The Tale Of The Baffling Barista

My wife and I work the same shift at the same company, and that shift starts at 5am.  As a result, we’re usually very sleepy during the drive into work.  I have to say, it makes the other drivers nervous when they look over and see us both snoring, heads back, drooling.

This morning my wife felt the desire for Starbucks coffee and she asked[1] if we could stop at a drive through [or ‘drive-thru’ for all my American chums out there].

Of course.

We pulled up behind a car already in the queue [line] ordering their coffee.  Soon enough, after a brief 3 hours, the car finally moved and we rolled up to the microphone.

The speaker crackled into life.

“Welcome to Starbucks”

“Hi”, we both replied in sleepy unison.

“Yeah, we’re actually not open right now.”, came the lacklustre response in that inimitable style that made it sound like a question.

“Oh….OK. Never mind, thank you”

We looked at each other, shrugged and started to drive off.  Unfortunately we couldn’t go far as the car in front of us was at the next window waiting for their coffee.

We couldn’t get around them and, despite my wife’s insistence I beep my horn and ‘urge’ them to move the fuck out of the way, I decided to reverse back along the drive through lane as there were no cars behind us…..at 4:30am on a Monday.

I wonder why.

Anyway, as we reversed back past the microphone/speaker we could hear the woman babbling something over the intercom, so we stopped.

“Welcome to Starbucks, can I take your order?”

We looked at each other again, but this time in total confusion.  My wife leaned across me and said, “Wait….I thought you said you were closed.”

The speaker crackled back into life, “No, I said we we’re not open right now.”

Wait, isn’t that the same thing?

The speaker continued to crackle with attitude as the woman told us why they weren’t open yet; something about waiting for something or whatever….I don’t know.  Anyway, her tedious tale concluded with her asking if she could take our order.

Maybe it was the fact we were half asleep and devoid of caffeine, but she made no sense whatsoever.

So if you’re reading this and you’re not from the USA, take note…..’Not Open‘ and ‘Closed‘ mean different things over here….apparently.

Just like ‘Starbucks Barista‘ and ‘Testy Imbecile‘.

He he, ‘Testy’

[1] Demanded

My parking is a cut above the rest

Last night I decided to get my hair cut because I was starting to look like 1973.

So I drove to the barber shop, spied a parking space and parked in it. The space was a bit tight (smirk), but I slipped in with ease (even smirkier)

Exciting story so far, right?

I got out of my car and started walking towards the barber shop when I heard a voice behind me.

I whirled around[1] and saw a little old lady sat behind the wheel of one of the cars I just pulled up next to.  She smiled at me and repeated whatever indecipherable thing she said.

“Pardon?” I said to her, very politely and Englishly.

She cleared her throat and tried again, “You a good driver! I seen 3 people try and park there and give up. You a good driver!”[sic].

“Thanks!” I replied smugly.

Little did she know I often fuck up parking my unnecessarily long American sedan like a cock.  Yet I STILL do better than the local drivers here in Las Vegas.

As they say…in a land of twats, the dick is king[2].

car-park

Llllllllike a glove!

[1] Who whirls?  I just turned around normally.

[2] No-one says this.