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.

Here kiddy, kiddy, kiddy.

There is a little known fact that American children are made of glass.

It’s true; they’re such delicate little snowflakes that the mere thought of them near danger results in the country childproofing everything!

Think of the children!”

I’d rather not; you can get arrested for that shit.

Nothing demonstrates this more than the roads outside schools. There are big signs indicating a ‘School Zone’ with yellow lights that, when flashing, indicate you must slow down to the speed limit shown on the sign.

The Police are VERY vigilant of this I’ve been told.  After all, “Think of the children!

school_zone

These speed limits vary from 25 mph all the way down to ‘Get out of your car and push it‘, and start about 30 miles outside the ‘School Zone’.  “Think of the children!

At face value this is a great idea, but I have never EVER seen an unsupervised child cross the street outside a school. This isn’t The Goonies.  In fact, I’ve never even SEEN a child outside a school when the lights are flashing.

Ever.

Oh, wait, that’s not true.  I have seen kids outside when the school kicks out.

Hundreds of little miracles, hands firmly held by their parents or being loaded into cages.  At these times there are Lollipop men/women (crossing guards) walking out into the street, slowing and stopping the traffic.  These people make the flashing signs redundant.

Take a look at this..

This is a Google street view of the school I actually attended as a 7 year old boy in England, with a school I go past regularly here in Vegas (and the inspiration for this post).

skoolsukusa

Anyone for Frogger?

Back in my day (insert Yorkshire accent here) you left school and crossed the street between parked cars by looking both ways before doing so.  It was called ‘common sense’, or ‘not wanting to be splattered by an oncoming car’.  The speed limit was (and still is) 30 mph.  It’s slow enough to stop if a child runs out, and fast enough to speed up if a child runs out.  We like choices.

But in America we have to drive 15 mph in case, god forbid, an unattended child should run out of the school, across the vast car park (parking lot), past the planters and shrubs and onto the wide open road that has no parked cars obstructing them from view.

Seriously, I could be doing 70 mph and see these little angels coming.

I’d have to work really hard to actually hit one. Believe me, I’ve tried.

Those fuckers are fast.

In this mollycoddling nation of snowflakes and participation trophies, the little lambs are never let out of the sight of their parents who usher them from the school building to their oversized SUVs like a celebrity leaving a nightclub.

papped

So why do we all have to slow down from a measly 35 mph to an awkward kiddy-fiddling kerb crawl?  I get nervous when I have to drive by a school slowly, especially with only one hand on the wheel.

10 to 2.

Eyes straight.

But seriously, where is that healthy respect for traffic we all had growing up?  What happened to looking both ways when crossing the road?  Where is the Green Cross Code?

People need to ‘Stop‘, ‘Look‘ and ‘Listen‘.

Instead they ‘Don’t Stop‘, ‘Don’t Look‘ and ‘Sue‘.

In every country in the world, pedestrians need to watch out for oncoming traffic…but in America, traffic has to watch out for oncoming pedestrians. It’s ridiculous!  I know I’ve touched on this before, but it baffles me how backward this is.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big advocate for road safety…..but not as much as I am for natural selection.

Here kiddy, kiddy, kiddy.

ShoSho-wing too much

This weekend my wife and I took a road trip to northern Nevada.  It was awesome and NOT the basis of today’s blog…don’t worry.  This isn’t a travel blog after all; I only write about shit that either A) happens to me, B) pisses me off, or C) has a combination of A and B.

There are a lot of C’s in this blog, I can tell you.

(insert smirky face here)

Anyway, back to my reason for today’s post.  On the way back from the land of fucking nothing for miles and miles, we detoured to a natural warm spring in Duckwater.

duckwater-hot-spring

This warm spring has been referred to as the largest in the United States and is located on land owned by the Shoshone Indian tribe.

In essence, this place is in the middle of fucking NOWHERE.

After turning off the main highway, it was another million miles along a road that I can only describe as the beginning of almost every horror movie ever.  This was followed by a gravel ‘road’ that eventually led to the warm springs and the need for repair to the underside of your car.

We didn’t see another vehicle in either direction for almost an hour.  Not one.  I was genuinely fucking scared.

Here are the warm springs on Google maps.

 

Zoom out. Seriously, do it.

Do you see just how much ‘fuck all’ there is around?

I wasn’t joking when I say we saw NO-ONE!

As we parked up in the completely desolate parking lot (or ‘area of gravel’), another car suddenly pulled up next to us.  Wait, what?  Where did they come from?

Out of the car jumped two young ladies who, it soon became abundantly clear, were more than just friends. I was a little bit disappointed at their arrival because I was looking forward to romantically dipping in the warm spring with my wife.  It wasn’t a huge ask, considering the fact it was in the middle of buttfuck nowhere and had taken us an hour and a half out of our way, but that’s fine.  No, really, it’s FINE!

I shot my wife a look that said “For fuck’s sake!” while our new friends chattered to each other as they merrily collected their shit from their car and joyfully trotted to the water’s edge.

Oh well, it was what it was.  To be honest, it was still lovely. My wife and I had a bit of a swim, joined by our friends (who aren’t just friends) and we even had a bit of a laugh and joke with them.  I couldn’t really be a complete dick about them being there too because, after all, we were also interrupting their romantic warm spring dip.

After half an hour or so my wife and I decided to get out as we had a 4 hour drive back to Vegas.  We picked up our stuff by the side of the springs and walked back to the car, dripping sacred Shoshone water all over sacred Shoshone land.  When we got to the car I looked around and saw nothing was coming from miles around; no glint of vehicle metal on the horizon and no dust clouds in their wake.  I glanced back at the springs and our new friends were still swimming and chatting in the water.

“I’m going to change back into my clothes here”, I said to my wife, as I couldn’t be arsed to traipse back to the restroom (wooden hut) to change out of my wet swim shorts.

My wife looked around and agreed it made sense.  Besides, I could hide behind the car door, away from the prying eyes of two young women who really had no interest in my penis anyway.

Behind me was just desert as far as the eye could see.  I was good to go.

So I gripped the elastic waistband and dropped my shorts to the ground in one rapid movement.  This was no easy feat considering they were soaked through and sticking to me like a Jewish mother.

It was quite nice to feel the cool Nevadan breeze tickle my untickled areas.

As I stood up, miraculously one of the girls was out of the water rummaging through their belongings, 10 feet away from my manhood swinging1 freely in the breeze!  I dropped to a half squat position behind the car door quicker than if I’d been swiftly kicked in the nuts.  I was almost uppercutted by the door.

Is uppercutted a word?  Meh, it’ll do.

I couldn’t believe this girl had decided that NOW was the time she needed her phone, cigarettes, rubber fist or whatever.

My wife was in bits with laughter.

I decided to sit inside the car and remove the rest of my shorts and in no time I was completely naked, in the middle of sacred Shoshone Indian country.

At this point my wife said, though stifled laughter “Oh, I don’t believe it.”

“What?”, I barked?

She pointed behind me and attempted some words that failed her.  I turned and looked through the car windows and, sure enough, there was another car trundling down the gravel road towards us.

ohcomeon

They were greeted by me, sat there, door open, naked and wet.

Enjoy your swim.

 

 

1 Who am I kidding?

mario-shrink

Oxymorons

This morning, as I drove up to the gym, I noticed several cars circling the car park (parking lot) like sharks.

I soon realised they were looking for spaces that were as close to the gym entrance as possible. 

These people were actually trying to avoid having to walk too far. Now, I could understand this behaviour if it was raining or the zombie apocalypse was upon us, but this is Las Vegas; it’s nothing but sunshine and blue skies. 

It’s a hard life.

What makes it more ridiculous is the fact that I saw these pillocks 20 minutes later clocking up miles on the treadmill.

Still, at least these cretins didn’t get my space right by the entrance.

Result.

A small entry (apparently)

I try to avoid posting twice in quick succession, especially since it’s been a writing drought recently, but I simply had to share this.

I was driving home from work today and, as I joined the freeway, there was a huge billboard offering ‘Vaginal Tightening’.

This was an occasion where ‘LOL’ was appropriate.

I really did. Loudly.

It was highly amusing and therefore I shared it on Facebook. I mean, it’s funny but I didn’t think it warranted a post of its own.

Anyway, as I neared home I saw a store selling alcohol; a self proclaimed outlet of alcohol, or ‘liquor’ as they called it.

Yes, that’s right, it was called ‘Liquor Outlet’.

I had to pull over before I ROFL’d into the car in front.

Give me a sign…and I will point and laugh at it.

Yesterday I was in traffic, sat behind a truck that had the slogan:

‘Behind You All The Way’.

Ah, the irony.

I was on my way to see Star Wars Episode VII : The Force Awakens for the second time.

When I got to the cinema I realised I was extremely early (like I was keen to get there, for some reason) and my man date hadn’t arrived yet.  Out of boredom I began wandering around the child-filled lobby, raising suspicion with security.

My boredom took a breather when I saw this sign on the wall…

image

OK, so most of this is standard stuff about not bringing in your own food and switching off your phone…blah blah blah, but it was a little disturbing to read ‘no weapons’.

Does that include lightsabers?

It was scary to see that written on a sign that was NOT trying to be funny.  They meant it.  If you’re armed you’d better not mess with these people, they have a sign.  What do you have?

Oh, wait…

But my favourite part was that they felt it necessary to advise they WILL wake you up if you’re snoring, like it’s a regular thing.

This had me laughing out loud to myself.

Security began to close in.

This, combined with the contradictory truck logo, reminded me I had two or three amusing photos on my phone that I was saving for a potential blog post in the future.

Well, now this post is that post.

Enjoy.

image

On the back of a camping chair (and down the front of my pants)

20150828_121849.jpg

We need to protect the gaylords it seems….or are they there to protect us?

20150821_070247.jpg

TV show about your mother.

Stop, America….just stop.

Last night I had an encounter with a driver that infuriated me.  It’s something that happens a lot and pisses me off to a level that is unwise in a country where guns are so readily available.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is a warning; today’s post is a rant.

Ok, so….this encounter last night involved a 4-way stop junction which, in my opinion, are as effective as chipotle flavoured hemorrhoid cream.

Why the fuck can’t Americans just use roundabouts (sorry ‘traffic circles’) to maintain the flow of traffic like sensible countries? Oh yes, that’s right, apparently they’re ‘confusing’ and Americans don’t know how to use them.

I suppose I can understand that.  It’s a circle.  Very confusing.

After all, they have to simultaneously use TWO pedals AND a steering wheel; how could we possibly expect them to navigate anything other than a huge, wide straight road?

What was I thinking?

Now, for those who don’t know, a 4-way stop has two simple rules; The Stupid Rule and The Vague Rule.

The Stupid Rule dictates that you MUST stop, even when you can see there are no cars coming for miles and miles and miles.

crossroads

Add to this the fact that 4-way stops are at almost every intersection, it makes for a very jerky drive.

Stop.  Start.  Stop.  Start.  Stop.  Start.  Stop.  Start.  Stop.  Start.  Stop.  Ad nauseum

It takes forever to get anywhere.  And don’t even get me started on the speed limits.

I use the word ‘speed’ liberally, of course.

Then there’s The Vague Rule; it dictates who gets to go first.  You see, it all depends on who got to the intersection first.  If you’re there first, you go first.

That makes sense, right?

This never results in bell-ends (no US translation for this one) speeding up to get there seconds before you do, just so they can go first.

Never.

Ever!

However, there is one distinct fault with this rule; one that was never taken into consideration when it was apparently concocted by chimps.

People.

It didn’t factor in the sheer stupidity that people bring to the mix.

Most of the time it’s pretty easy to see who gets to the junction before or after you.  If they’re stationary when you arrive, they got there first.  Otherwise it’s you.

And yet, despite being easy to establish the pecking order pretty sharpish (quickly), there are still those tentative, hesitant, dribbly twats who get there before you and then don’t move, resulting in me and all the other twitchy cars wondering what they’re doing and if we should just go.

I’m pretty sure I’m not the only driver shouting words of encouragement like: “GO then, you fucking turd”

In those situations I just go.

Fuck ’em.

So, was it one of these idiots I encountered last night?  Oh no dear sir, it most certainly was not.

No, last night was a whole new level of dumbfuckery.

Now, before I continue, I have a little quiz for you.

Ready?

Question 1:  Which indicator (turn signal) do you use when turning left?

A – Left indicator

B – Right indicator

C – Both indicators

D – No indicators

Question 2:  Which indicator (turn signal) do you use when turning right?

A – Left indicator

B – Right indicator

C – Both indicators

D – No indicators

Question 3:  Which indicator (turn signal) do you use when going straight ahead?

A – Left indicator

B – Right indicator

C – Both indicators

D – No indicators

The answers are: 1-A, 2-B and 3-D.

If you scored less than 100%, please click here.

Otherwise, please continue reading.

So now’s the time for me to set the scene for last night.

I approached the 4-way stop, slowed down and stopped.  The car coming in the opposite direction did exactly the same, a second before me.  There were no cars coming from the left or right.

It was just the two of us.

According to The Vague Rule, he had the right to enter the intersection before me.  He didn’t have any indicators flashing, so he was going straight ahead, just like me.

Naturally, I entered the intersection at the same time as him because, after all, we were simply going to pass each other.  Right?

Wrong.

This cocksmoker was turning left.

This meant he had to stop IN the intersection and wait for me to pass, making sure I could see ‘the error of my ways’ by slamming on his brakes and giving me that look to say I was in the wrong.

At least, that’s what I think he was doing, it was difficult to see past the limbs of his kids splatted against the windscreen (windshield).

How the fuck was I supposed to know he was turning left?

I know why I got that look; it was that ingrained sense of entitlement.  It was HIS turn to go.

Regardless of whether his maneuver interfered with mine or not, it was HIS turn.

sulk cart

I should sit there like a good little boy and wait.

Not this little boy.

This little boy wanted to get out of his little car and punch him in his little dick.

Why do people here have such an inability to signal which direction they’re turning?

My wife tells me that Las Vegas drivers are the worst, but some of the people I work with – who come from all over the US – say it’s a nationwide epidemic.  I’m staring to believe them.

It’s not like they’re driving manual cars over here.  They’re not having to negotiate the clutch, the gearstick, the biting point, etc…  In fact, UK drivers have all that shit to deal with AND they still manage to use their indicators.

No, here it’s a different distraction.  With their free hand they’re either texting, sipping coffee or masturbating.

Like me.