(no subject)
Italians are suicidally bad drivers. Tonite, I had mace sprayed at me. From a car. That's true.
Read the shocking events HERE.
Okay, so I was returning home from my class that's about 30km from my house. Some big ass semi pulled out onto the main road and cut a bunch of people off. Hey, that's ordinary buisness. So, I check behind me before I pass him. Nothing. Other lane is clear...let's move. WHEN SUDDENLY...a BMW travelling at about 180km per hour comes speeding out of nowhere, directly behind me. I almost hit him when I was shifting over, I suppose, but that's nothing new, and it was his fault anyways. No harm, no foul, right? Well, he decides it's a good idea to honk at me. Niente. I'll just throw the bird out the window and be on my way.
Well, it seems that he took offense to that. This is a two lane road we're driving on now, keep that in mind. He pulls up along side me when the other side is clear, and takes a glance over, matching my speed. I see his cell phone illuminated in a homosexual blue tint near his ear and think, "Not only is he a shitty driver, but he was on his phone too. Holy jesus". Well, I did my thing. I drive looking straight ahead with my middle finger flying to my left. I figure this is the best way to express my true feelings as he hovers beside me, presumably trying to say something. He dodges back behind me a few times as oncoming traffic pushes him back from the other lane.
Now, this whole time, he could have easily passed me. He was driving a fairly new BMW, and I was driving a 500 dollar Opel Ass-tra. Now I'm getting irritated slightly. He proceeds to position his car about 9 inches behind mine, playing some dangerous game with fate, I suppose. What a hero. My mind races with this chump tailing me, and I briefly consider the possibility of slamming on my brakes and collecting the insurance money from him. Well, it's cold outside, so I figure I don't want to be standing around all night. The new plan is to gradually let off the gas and slow down. The traffic on the other side of the road is now intense, so he won't be able to pass me. Yeah, that'll do it.
As the other side clears, he pulls along side me again and throws on his right turn signal. He looks at me through the window and makes something that could only be interpretted as a pointing gesture to the right. Was this some sort of primitive car challenge that I wasn't privy to? Well, I had had enough. My heart was racing as I decided that this wouldn't end pretty.
I take a look behind me, and there are no cars coming. (besides this jackass) Time for buisness. I'm not claiming to be some kind of Bruce Willis type, but I know at least 13% of one martial art and I just found out that when I work 40 hours, I get paid $400 as opposed to the school getting $8,600. I was in a raw mood. The mood to take some mama's boy Italian and stick his face in the mud. So I pull off to the side of the road and begin to mentally prepare for our showdown.
The cars both stop. Tensions run high. I roll down my manual windows and look to my left. What follows next is the actual conversation.
Guy: Guarda! *insert likely italian swear words and nonsensical phrases*
Me: What the fuck is wrong with you, you stupid motherfucker? What the fuck do you want?
Guy: ...Cosa!?
Well, so much for talking. I guess he wasn't going to rush out of the car and engage me in battle like I had hoped for. Too bad. I throw up the bird yet again. Maybe I should just go. And then, it happened.
There was a moment where I thought I was just going to drive away. But before I knew it, he had some sort of can pointed at me. My eyes narrowed as I tried to understand exactly what this aparatus was. Then he shot. A misty spray covered mostly his passenger seat and dispersed into the cool winter air. Keep in mind now, that our cars are seperated by about 20 feet, and he's in the drivers seat furthest from me. So, as I said, his passenger seat got covered in what was likely a fine coat of mace.
And then we had our most excellent moment. We both froze. Perhaps it was only for an instant, but we made eye contact and both understood the same thing.
...he was an idiot.
I'm not sure if you're familiar with the mechanics of mace, but I'll fill you in. The effective range of mace is typically 9-10 inches. Maybe less. As I mentioned, I was over 15 feet away. Perhaps if I was several feet closer, my eyes would have been slightly irritated, but for that stuff to work, you have to be point-blank range.
So we stopped. I saw a small twinge of defeat in his eyes. And then he vanished. He sped off in his fancy car, now scented with the smell of whatever mace smells like.
And that was the end of our encounter.
What have we learned from this? Nothing, really. Mostly just that Italians are shitty drivers, and if you're going to assault someone on the road, at least use a gun or maybe a heavy rock or something.
Enclosed below is a helpful lesson on the do's and don't's of mace usage.
[IMG]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v120/SlainHeart/maceuse.jpg[/IMG]
Read the shocking events HERE.
Okay, so I was returning home from my class that's about 30km from my house. Some big ass semi pulled out onto the main road and cut a bunch of people off. Hey, that's ordinary buisness. So, I check behind me before I pass him. Nothing. Other lane is clear...let's move. WHEN SUDDENLY...a BMW travelling at about 180km per hour comes speeding out of nowhere, directly behind me. I almost hit him when I was shifting over, I suppose, but that's nothing new, and it was his fault anyways. No harm, no foul, right? Well, he decides it's a good idea to honk at me. Niente. I'll just throw the bird out the window and be on my way.
Well, it seems that he took offense to that. This is a two lane road we're driving on now, keep that in mind. He pulls up along side me when the other side is clear, and takes a glance over, matching my speed. I see his cell phone illuminated in a homosexual blue tint near his ear and think, "Not only is he a shitty driver, but he was on his phone too. Holy jesus". Well, I did my thing. I drive looking straight ahead with my middle finger flying to my left. I figure this is the best way to express my true feelings as he hovers beside me, presumably trying to say something. He dodges back behind me a few times as oncoming traffic pushes him back from the other lane.
Now, this whole time, he could have easily passed me. He was driving a fairly new BMW, and I was driving a 500 dollar Opel Ass-tra. Now I'm getting irritated slightly. He proceeds to position his car about 9 inches behind mine, playing some dangerous game with fate, I suppose. What a hero. My mind races with this chump tailing me, and I briefly consider the possibility of slamming on my brakes and collecting the insurance money from him. Well, it's cold outside, so I figure I don't want to be standing around all night. The new plan is to gradually let off the gas and slow down. The traffic on the other side of the road is now intense, so he won't be able to pass me. Yeah, that'll do it.
As the other side clears, he pulls along side me again and throws on his right turn signal. He looks at me through the window and makes something that could only be interpretted as a pointing gesture to the right. Was this some sort of primitive car challenge that I wasn't privy to? Well, I had had enough. My heart was racing as I decided that this wouldn't end pretty.
I take a look behind me, and there are no cars coming. (besides this jackass) Time for buisness. I'm not claiming to be some kind of Bruce Willis type, but I know at least 13% of one martial art and I just found out that when I work 40 hours, I get paid $400 as opposed to the school getting $8,600. I was in a raw mood. The mood to take some mama's boy Italian and stick his face in the mud. So I pull off to the side of the road and begin to mentally prepare for our showdown.
The cars both stop. Tensions run high. I roll down my manual windows and look to my left. What follows next is the actual conversation.
Guy: Guarda! *insert likely italian swear words and nonsensical phrases*
Me: What the fuck is wrong with you, you stupid motherfucker? What the fuck do you want?
Guy: ...Cosa!?
Well, so much for talking. I guess he wasn't going to rush out of the car and engage me in battle like I had hoped for. Too bad. I throw up the bird yet again. Maybe I should just go. And then, it happened.
There was a moment where I thought I was just going to drive away. But before I knew it, he had some sort of can pointed at me. My eyes narrowed as I tried to understand exactly what this aparatus was. Then he shot. A misty spray covered mostly his passenger seat and dispersed into the cool winter air. Keep in mind now, that our cars are seperated by about 20 feet, and he's in the drivers seat furthest from me. So, as I said, his passenger seat got covered in what was likely a fine coat of mace.
And then we had our most excellent moment. We both froze. Perhaps it was only for an instant, but we made eye contact and both understood the same thing.
...he was an idiot.
I'm not sure if you're familiar with the mechanics of mace, but I'll fill you in. The effective range of mace is typically 9-10 inches. Maybe less. As I mentioned, I was over 15 feet away. Perhaps if I was several feet closer, my eyes would have been slightly irritated, but for that stuff to work, you have to be point-blank range.
So we stopped. I saw a small twinge of defeat in his eyes. And then he vanished. He sped off in his fancy car, now scented with the smell of whatever mace smells like.
And that was the end of our encounter.
What have we learned from this? Nothing, really. Mostly just that Italians are shitty drivers, and if you're going to assault someone on the road, at least use a gun or maybe a heavy rock or something.
Enclosed below is a helpful lesson on the do's and don't's of mace usage.
[IMG]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v120/SlainHeart/maceuse.jpg[/IMG]
![http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v120/SlainHeart/maceuse.jpg[/IMG]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v120/SlainHeart/maceuse.jpg[/IMG]){kind=link}