Dear Diary,

As you know Diary, I have a relatively hefty commute each morning as I go to work to fund my poor gambling hobby (Tease ‘skins +3, U 60.5, Bulls +5). Well today was just one of those days and I need to vent. What’s special about my commute is that I get to drive AND take the train during rush hour in Brooklyn, Queens, and Manhattan. I know, Waah Waah, I’m a big fat baby. But this is my diary so if you don’t like it then go read something else, jackass.

Where was I, Diary, oh yea… Well today I was coming home and I was in the car portion of my trip. I am sitting at a red light and there are several cars behind me. Little did I know that the world’s leading expert in dickfacemothertruckerology was sitting two cars behind me. He/she began to honk. Not holding down the horn, or just taping it once, but constantly honking in different intervals for about a minute and 30 seconds. THE LIGHT WAS RED. Why on earth would he/she be honking?! I haven’t been that angry since that morning on the car ride to the train. I was about to rip my steering wheel out and walk back to his/her car and beat their windshield in!

The last time I checked, we live in a society that has rules. These rules are really not to complicated. We learn these rules as soon as we are old enough to have the ability to learn. This bleeping heathen apparently was raised in the wilderness, presumably by apes (sorry if that is insensitive to apes) and was just given a car yesterday. He/she’s picking it up pretty quick but hasn’t gotten the whole, red means stop, thing, yet.

Diary, you and I both know that there is a really deep and dark place in Hell for people like him/her and that gives me a bit of solace.

Well Diary, thanks for letting me vent a bit. I’ll talk to you soon! Maybe one of these days I’ll be able to write to you about a pretty lady. But knowing my luck, it’ll be about a pretty lady… t-boning my car and sending me to the hospital.

XOXO Gossip Girl,

Big Fudge