What are you glaring at, yes I’m staring at your daughter. This surprises you? Maybe if you stopped looking at me and looked to your right you’d see the problem here. Seriously don’t blame me, you’re the one who let her leave the house wearing that. It’s just a loose bit of fabric somewhat covering her nipples and a denim based bikini bottom thingy that kinda keeps part of her ass in (jeankini?). So your going to stand there and tell me that when y’all where leaving the house, she walked down the stairs wearing that and you thought  “oh you look pretty dear, just like a little angel, lets go out in public”? Now look you can continue to glare at me all you want, but it’s not my fault there is a natural selection based awkwardness of sexual attraction that makes guys my age desire to be face down in girls your daughters’ age while living in a culture that says that’s only cool if she’s a stripper and I’m rich or have coke.

Perhaps you should look at that girl walking on the other side of the street, I actually have to work to get an image of her naked in my head. See how all of her important bits are covered, that leaves question marks about specific sizes, and shapes that I then have to fill in with my own mind. She could have those little dimple things on her lower back? She may have tattoos, large areolas, freckles or huge nipples? I don’t know, and that’s the point, sometimes it just becomes too much effort to figure out. All of that mental undressing takes a bit of time and effort on my part and as such I’m just not going to do it. Your daughter on the other hand, left none of that for me to do. It’s like her naked body just jumped up right into my imagination against my will ass up and tits flap’n took over and started grinding. That’s not my fault, it’s yours.

If it’s any consolation you won’t have to worry about these kinds of awkward arousal based social interactions at traffic lights happening for too much longer. She has that trying too hard look about her, since she also has that body is going to go all to hell in five years look about her too. Trust me, after her first pregnancy, which will probably happen any day now, that thing is going all to shit. You can see it now, baby fat is only cute when they’re young, in five years it’ll just be regular old fat. I know it, you know it, and she knows it. Hell that’s why she’s dressing like this in the first place. She need to land a guy now while she can. I’m sure her plan is to find one who has the possibility of being able to work, get him locked in as a baby daddy as soon as possible and hope it all works out in the end. It won’t though. Even if she decides to pick one that isn’t a total shithead looser just to piss you off she’ll still end up lying around the house doing nothing all day but getting fatter. All the while her four year old runs around out of control and learning how to dress like a whore just like her mommy did, and I’m betting you did before that. Ahh the cycle of whores.

I can see you getting angrier at me, but the light will change soon and you’re the one who looks more like a pimp than a mother standing there. Now look, I’m not demanding she wear a burka. Hell I’m not even saying she shouldn’t show it a bit, or even a lot. But that’s slightly less than beach attire and I’m not in “beach mode”. You know beach mode, where you see so much skin that after 5 minutes of whirling your head around you’re just too exhausted and desensitized to it and don’t give a fuck anymore. See I’m not at a beach and I’m not desensitized to it. I’m at a stoplight in Baltimore, so I have fuck all to look at other than your clothing deficient daughter and that fat fucking guy in a wife beater over there, that other fat guy in a wife beater over there, and that really skinny guy in a wife beater. Actions have consequences, and her wardrobe actions have the consequence of me staring at her.

So mom, you can stop glaring and calling me a a dirty old man in your head… that sentence is redundant anyway and this light just turned green, so good luck with all of that I’m sure the next time I see you, you’ll be a grandparent.

Hey Maryland, why the hell can you not build another DMV? Will it break the State budget? By the looks of this place I can’t see how unless you suddenly become West Virginia.

Why are the numbers your calling going backward now? And what the hell happened to Mr. G117? And you, guy next to me, stop reading over my shoulder will yea.  What the fuck happened to G122? Do you really mean there are 63 more people in front of me? Why are there no hot chicks here? What, hot chicks don’t drive? Their license never expire? I call bullshit. Statistically any group of people this big should have at least four fuckable chicks and one hottie. Perhaps everyone is just getting uglier. They certainly are getting fatter it seems. Look at that one over there, belly hanging out, chewing gum like cud.

Lady will you please for the love of god shake your baby! It will stop screaming so damn loudly if you do and I promise everyone here would applaud you for it.

Look I can only sit here dressed like a clown for so long, at least take the damn photo so I can take some of this shit off. You’re making it way too hard to get a ridiculous ID photo. What? Fine lady you can plug your damn iphone into this computer to charge it for a minute. But don’t tell anyone else, I’m not fucking PEPCO. Actually if I was PEPCO I’d unplug it, run it dry then charge you for the service.

3.5 hours latter I finally have a license. I really liked the part where you charged me an extra $45 to type an “M” on the damn thing. And it turns out Maryland takes the photo from the neck up so I wore this ridiculous shirt and tie all day for nothing. Fuck you Maryland…fuck you.

Just because my top is down does not mean I want to talk to you. So move away from my car. No just stop where you are. Just get the fuck away from me. Look I don’t care how hungry you are I don’t have any money. Oh, you’re trying to get new football uniforms, I still have no money. Fuck off! What are you looking at? Stop looking in here. Can’t you hear me turning up the radio? I’ll roll up the window at you. See how I’m looking at you speak, while turning the knob on the stereo, that means fuck off.

Now as everyone who lives in any non-bumfuck place in America will know, roadside homeless at an intersection are as common as..well, our homeless. Most just stand quietly holding signs asking for money, or pace up and down the medium. But what the rest of you don’t have to deal with is the inevitable conversation they all want to have when a convertible pulls up. And understandably. I’d imagine homeless conversations would get pretty boring after a while “So Ted what did you eat today?” “Nothing Bill, you?” “Nope, wanna smoke some crack?” Hell I think my conversations with people I know get boring and we own shit to talk about.

Last week I was first car at the light, and he was standing right there so I could see it coming. While everyone else just got a quiet walk by their closed windows with the sign I got the “hey, got any change you can spare?”. Now being a professional unemployed person myself, no I have no change to spare. And told him so. But it never ends there, oh it never ends there. “Do you gamble?” What? This was a new one. “I used to but not anymore” (lie!).” “oh that good” he said. And then moved on to the next car. Hold up! Where the fuck was that going? This was the first damn conversation I’ve had with a homeless that I wanted to find out more in years and he just moves on. Did he loose all his money gambling? Was he trying to get to Pimlico? Did he want to make a bet? Come back… dick. At least put that on the sign.

And while I’m on about the signs, I have to ask why the hell do they all end their sign with “god bless”? I mean look at yourself, your god obviously fucking hates you. And your still giving props? That’s not noble and Job was a sucker. Now I get it, it’s a marketing thing. While I’m sure most of them do believe that crap, it’s still plays on the guilt of the religious for some cash. Hell if I was begging for money on the side of the road I’d do it too. Fuck, I’d more than do it, my sign would read “Child victim of molesting priest, now homeless. Help out or jesus will cry”.

Now occasionally I do have a pleasant exchange with people out of the car. Doggies love to run up and say hi, and for some reason I get a lot of “nice car” comments (this will be explored in a future drunken rant). Hell even though I don’t know any of the street names (so good luck) I don’t mind trying to give you directions. It’s just that 4 out of 5 times the person asks for directions just as the light turns green. So I’m either the asshole who drives off without helping you, or I’m the asshole who holds up the hole damn intersection to chat to the guy with Pennsylvania tags.

So for the most part when someone starts speaking to me it’s going to suck, so please don’t do it. Look, I didn’t get a convertible to meet people. I got a convertible because I like the wind in my face, I like to feel like I’m actually outside when I go outside, and to annoy others with my music. I not driving to make friends you know.