passafire those with the rage before the make an egregious mistake and we gotta put out a fire; raging passengers during rush hour.
Yo.. even for myself that shit's lit.
Ah, the wonderful people of the magical land called Interstate. Why, I had the lucky chance just this morning to communicate with these magical beings. Once, when I was running 90 in a 65 (like everyone else), this majestic creature wanted to switch lanes and the good mysterious being it is signed its so called flashers at the right side. Now, it may be my fault as I am not yet well-informed on how these creatures speak, but apparently when the flasher blinks on a particular side the car does not go there, instead it goes the other way. AGHAST! I yelled in my mind, but with my superior reflexes I managed to majestically adjust and control my speed and that bloody good blood-pumping scene quickly came to pass. After that personal experience, I managed to conclude that the creatures called Drivers are a lost cause and that any attempt to study them is considered futile.
Comments
Yo.. even for myself that shit's lit.