The Top 5 Things that Ruined My Commute Today

1. The Radio Traffic Report

Delivering a traffic report in Southern California is like telling a person being tortured, “Hey, you’re being tortured!  Specifically, you’re being waterboarded, and it appears you’ll continue to be waterboarded for the next forty five minutes!”

You would never give a bus report notifying riders that “The 34 has standing room only this afternoon, and smells faintly of vomit!”  Stating the obvious to a powerless audience is unnecessary and mean spirited.

When I’m sitting at a dead stop on the freeway, I don’t need to be told that “traffic is sticky through the Golden Triangle.”  It’s 5:30 PM on a weekday and it’s raining.  The Golden Triangle looks like a scene from an apocalyptic movie where everyone is fleeing a burning city at the same time.  Just like yesterday.  There is no need to call the futility of my situation to my attention every fifteen minutes.

I hate you slightly less than morning show DJs.

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My New Diet

Shitty pop songs are like simple carbs.  You know they’re not good for you, but when you get in the habit of consuming them on a regular basis, it’s kinda hard to stop.  They’re a mindless burst of pleasure, a shot of energy to your bloodstream that often doesn’t even last the duration of the jam. Sometimes you’ve had so much that you’re no longer even enjoying them as they enter your system, but you still can’t stop shoving them in an uncontrollable manner into your mouth and ears. 

 Jason Derulo, really?  Are they STILL playing this terrible song?, you wonder, as your hand, guided by some force outside of your conscious control, reaches toward the volume like it’s the bowl of chips on the coffee table. 

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