My dearest Saskatoon, we must speak.
It concerns your driving, my city. You are abysmal when behind the wheel of an automobile of any sort. You frequently change lanes without signalling and you brake for no apparent reason. You text at stop-lights. You leave detachable trailer-hitches in place year-round, with no regard to the ruin you would make of someone else's vehicle in a fender-bender, with this flange, this ramrod, this point-load that completely defeats the purpose of having a bumper to distribute the force of impact. You attempt to lane change into my blind spot, as I am changing lanes, meaning that I am ahead of you and quite visible when you make your decision, and you have the gall to tootle your horn at me in anger. Despite the fact that the main streets have been recently scraped clean, and starting and stopping takes place with near normal efficiency and alacrity, you elect to drive twenty to thirty kilometres below the speed limit. When multiple driving lanes exist, you occupy all of them simultaneously while driving in full parallel, thus preventing anyone from passing. If you happened to be driving the limit while executing this parade-style manoeuvre, I would languish behind you but at least admit to myself that you were obeying the law; alas, you are not driving the posted speed limit - you are lollygagging. Moreover, at eight-thirty in the morning, when trying to drive my girlfriend to work on the other side of town, what you are doing is spurring forward my car-mounted rail gun designs. I suppose I should thank you for that, I'll make a mint from selling those; further, your continued macadam-based jackassery will also make driving past the flaming wreckage of your SUV all the sweeter.
I wonder how long it will actually take to charge the capacitors for this rail gun, this gauss rifle that I will be bolting to the frame of my Chevy Cobalt? Without doing the actual math, I'd say quite some time. What that really means is that I'll need to make it powerful enough for one shot to clear a path through the section of lights on College Drive, right in front of the university, and that I'll have to be patient, like a sniper, and choose my shot when it can clear the most self-contained people movers off of the road in front of me. I suppose I'll need to reinforce the frame and install magnetic shielding on my electronics.
I digress.
You drive like you're scratching your taint the entire time you're behind the wheel. Quit it. Buy some talcum powder, change the fabric with which you gird your loins, see a doctor and get a cream, but do it, and do it soon.
