Posts Tagged with "bad-drivers"

Video of 76-Year-Old Plowing Through Supermarket

April 18th, 2012 at 5:26 pm by Mark
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At least ten people wish they’d not gone grocery shopping on Saturday, April 14th, 2012 at the Publix on Belle Terre Parkway in Palm Coast, Florida …

This week, the Florida Highway Patrol charged a 76-year-old woman, Thelma Wagenhoffer, with Careless Driving after she drove her 2004 Toyota Camry through the front door of the Publix supermaket on Saturday afternoon. Of the ten people injured, only two were injured seriously, and both are expected to make a full recovery. Hiring the best car accident lawyer is the answer to get the right compensation. On the other hand, lemon laws is the one who helps people in getting financial compensation due to defective cars.

Ten things strike me as miraculously amazing about this story in Florida:

And, the number one thing I’m miraculously amazed at:

[ Warning: Graphic video, but again, no deaths or critical injuries. ]

Note: Seriously, watching that baby carriage just before the impact freaked me out until I read a little. I’m just glad that no one was killed, as things definitely could’ve been far, far worse.

Bras, Burritos, Ninjas and Hair Pullin’

December 5th, 2007 at 10:02 am by Diva
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I have decided on what one of the most annoying occurances in a woman’s life can possibly be.

I was at work and everything was coming up roses. I had an super great hair day. I even woke up early enough to slap on some war-paint. I had a box to pack up for a customer who is in a shit panic to get something done RIGHT NOW, after he had been advised a week ago that he needed to take action.

Whatever. Lack of planning on his dumb ass part, does not constitute a shit panic for me. None the less, I went ahead, as a good colleague would, and got his stuff put together for him and was putting the large part (a 50 pound instrument) into the box when I felt it…. SNAP! The underwire in my most favoritest bra gave out.

That kids, is annoying. My boob popped out of said bra into my shirt, making my the girls look all awkward and crooked. Needless to say, the bra came off and I wore my sweatshirt for the rest of the day.


I made an attempt to be stealth like a ninja this weekend. I did, really. I waited for Big T to get up and go to work, acting totally and convincingly asleep. He was out the door and I jumped up to take a shower. I hi-jacked the truck and snuck all the way to Pigeon Forge to the Music Outlet.

I cried on the sales fella’s shoulder about how I had to have the camo Morgan Monroe guitar case, of which they only had one and was already half paid for by some psycho woman.

Being the spoiled brat I am, I tried to talk him into giving me that one and ordering her another one, but to no avail. Kids, I haggled this dude for 20 minutes before his son said, “Dad, I think there might be one upstairs in the storage room.”

The waters parted and the heavens opened when I saw the boy coming back down the stairs a mere 30 minutes later carrying the last one they would ever have.

I am such a good wife that I pay attention to all the stuff Big T says. And I specifically remember him making a mental note that he was going to go back and get that case one day. Check. I made a mental note too. I was sure it would get me a free pass for a wicked roll in the hay. Woo!

Anyhoo, I get home and try to get in the house before Big T can come help me in with the stuff. But, I didn’t make it. He was out the door before I could fart and run from it.

He asked obviously annoyed that I would have enough nerve to put something back there when he had specifically told me not to. “What’s that in the back of the seats? I thought I told you not to put anything back there, baby.”

“I know you did. It’s for Natalie (my kid) and it’s lightweight. I was afraid it would blow out of the bed if I put it back there.” I protested.

He rolled his eyes and said “Unlock the door, let’s get it out and take it in the house.”

What could I do. I handed him the key. Mind you, he’s had a hard-on for this particular item for a little over a year.

He pulls the box out and looks in it. I swear, I thought he was gonna cry. The look of horror on his face that he had found one of his Christmas presents.

Oh well, his bad. He ain’t gettin it until Christmas day. I’ll wrap that bitch up and put in under the tree anyway. He better act surprised and he better still give me some major league nookie.

So much for being a ninja.


Taco Bell gets a stay of execution for now.

As promised to Ms. P, I went ahead forewent my diet in order to keep Taco Bell in business. I have had a burrito and large Diet Dew two days in a row. There is no need for anybody so sweet to die of hunger because of my vanity. What the hell was I thinkin anyway? Maybe that is why I broke bitch in like 1.3 seconds… maybe it wasn’t PMS… maybe it was lack of bean burritos with extra red sauce.

Thank you, Puddin, you saved me from myself.


What is a school zone? A school zone is a place where flashing lights, crossing guards and cops all come together with one goal in mind… to slow folks down in order to avoid mowing down of any munchkins.

I respect the school zone and all of its components. However, some asshat in an SUV, who apparently woke up a little late, doesn’t.

I drive my kids to school every single day, as she is too much of a princess to ride the damn bus. Which is fine. I too was a princess. I take into consideration that I might just run into traffic in the school zones, and allow this into my alotted time for the AM commute. Generally I take it for what it is and am a mellow driver. I don’t suffer from road rage very often… until today. Today was the day I finally snapped.

Anyway, the forementioned asshat decided that he was in a hurry and as a result his SUV was raping my poor little car he was riding so close… like right up the tailpipe raping. Not like I could go anywhere any faster with the half mile of folks trying to do the same thing I was.

I didn’t think about my daughter (16) sitting next to me when I finally got pissed off. I rolled down the window and yelled back at him “If you’re gonna ride my ass, at least pull my hair, asshole!”

Ooops. Of course, my kid busted out laughing and looking back at him. He must’ve been humiliated cuz his boy was laughing his ass off as his dad yelled at him. Good. Back off and don’t ride other people’s bumper. It’s just consideration.

Trafficking Incontinence

November 11th, 2007 at 11:10 am by Zacque
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After being out in the middle of nowhere, somewhere far south of Eden, I found myself once again in traffic.  There I was in the car trying visit a friend and I get land locked on the north end of town.  Shortly after wading through the mindless meddling of fools of ill repute, I finally found myself at the intersection, full of beavers, creeks, and pikes.

After spending an over abundance of my time waiting… and waiting… I finally found a break in the traffic.  It was the perfect defense as the maroon Ford pickup truck set a beautiful pick right in front of me. I went for it…

Like so many other times the maneuver went off without a hitch.  However I was jarred back to the utter reality of the asshats around me when I recieved a rather impolite HONK from another pickup which was a considerable distance away.  It was only then I rememebred, “The horn blows, does the driver?” Shortly after that the Boy Scout inside said, “Aren’t horns only to be used in case of emergency?” 

So in response, I would like to propose an idiot tax based on infringement of proper horn use.  If you blow your horn (excluding those proper for exposure in the bedroom, especially mine) for any other reason than the aforementioned you should be subject to a fine of $250. This fine would assist in driver education programs designed for those who will be driving in your stead when you injure yourself from your own stupidity.  By no means should you quit driving the way you do once this fine is enacted since theoretically this could eventually create a great excess and could become an education subsidy.

So here’s to you… keep up the driving diarrhea.  One day we’ll clean up this crap, but right now we don’t have the man or woman power. But in our independence filled society I’m sure we can come to a rational conclusion on this issue and that’s my final answer.

The Little Things Ya Appreciate

November 5th, 2007 at 12:04 pm by Diva
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One week to the day after I was wed to my prince, I was on a plane to Germany for a business trip that would keep me away for 10 days.  I can’t say I’ve ever been happier to be home than I am now.

I realized there are so many  little bitty things I manage to take for granted every single day.  You better believe the following is a tribute to those things.

Ice
I never really realized just how damn much ice  meant to me until I didn’t have it in my drink, for 10 days.  No friggin ice.  Luke warm yacky soda with no ice to chomp on. Damn.

Soda
Well, the German people have soda.  But they don’t have a friggin clue what Diet Coke is, no.  They call that shit Coke Light.  It’s super sweet and it tastes like real Coke.  And without ice it is simply undrinkable to my spoiled American palate.  And Diet Dew?  They don’t have Dew at all, let alone Diet Dew Light.  Damn.

The Dollar Being A Dollar
The US dollar is nothing more than a flipping piece of paper at the time of this writing.  I’m here to tell ya, by the time I paid the currency exchange fees and the exchange rate being as it was… my damn dollar was worth less than 47 cents, my friends.  It was extremely apparent to me just how bad it was when I came home to do my expense report and found that for 10 days, with exchange rate, I had spent more than $400 on food and drinks alone. Damn.  Wait!  Rachael Ray would be totally impressed, that would be $40 a day.  Go me!

Courtesy on the Road
Well, not that we have the most courteous drivers in the US, especially in the states that start with “I”, but even those numbnuts are courteous compared to the asshats on the autobahn.  Hello dickhead, get out of my tail pipe and learn to use a signal other than the bird!

My Man
Now this es muy imporante.  I never in my life thought, with all the traveling Diva does, that I would be homesick for my man.  I thought, I’m gone all the time.  It’ll be no big deal.  WRONG!  After more than a year of seeing his face and hearing his voice every single day… I realized how much I need those things and how much that he means to me.  Oh God, I’m getting all mushy again.
But seriously, doing without Diet Dew with ice on the autobahn was enough to make me want to walk to the coast, buy a boat and start paddlin my ass back home.

Stock Photos

Bad Driving aka “Let’s Piss People Off Again”

July 25th, 2007 at 5:03 pm by Mark
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     I’ve talked a couple of times about our local Knoxville culture getting screwed up by a bunch of asshats moving here and trying to rebuild it in their own image … From basic skills of “being intentionally rude and uncaring” to “being a good neighbors.”
     When I say that they don’t know how to be “good neighbors,”  it’s not about the people next door who keep to themselves— it’s about having a sense of community and civic responsibility.  East Tennessee’s had that until recent years.

     In this area, people drive pretty well, whereas in my travels, I’ve often complained about the way people drive.
     Here, they’re slightly aggressive, and mostly polite.  They tend to pay attention, and allow people their space.  They don’t try and run you down when you’re coming on an interstate entrance ramp.  They don’t stop in the middle of the road for no reason.  The light is green, they go.  The light is red, they stop.  They don’t pull out in front of people for no reason.  And they pretty much obey the traffic laws.
     But people who move here?  Yeah, not so much…

     Cathy, over at Domestic Psychology, got on the same train of thought

This week, I pulled up to the white line behind which you are expected to stop at a red light. I came to a stop and looked closely at the car beside me which crossed all four tires across the line before stopping. When the light turned green, I looked at the beyond the line driver’s plates and saw that they were Indiana plates. I was letting the information slide to the back of my mind as I pulled to another red light and another car did the exact same thing. This time I was far enough back to see that the eager driver had Illinois plates. Twice in 5 minutes on Kingston Pike, a very heavily trafficked street I saw cars doing what I consider against the law and both times they had out of town plates. So, I thought about this the rest of the way to my destination. Number one thought was that I was getting tired of catching every single red light. Number two thought was that maybe other states don’t have lines at intersections like Tennessee does. My third thought was that there must be something wrong with drivers in states that start with the letter “I”. Number four thought, which I seriously considered the longest, was that Tennessee drivers are just more considerate and law abiding drivers.

     Due to my comments about that, which Cathy chose to include on her blog entry … I will now list the “Women Can’t Drive” States:

  • Indiana
  • Iowa
  • Both Dakotas
  • Michigan
  • Minnesota

     It could be because of the whole “We have farms!  Be a housewife!” thing, and many women are worried about driving after being stigmatized for years.  It could also be because of a lack of Driver’s Education in those states (which is amusing considering that Michigan actually produces quite a few automobiles).  It could also be because city-type areas are much further away from each other “up north” than they are in the East Tennessee area, and people don’t know what the Hell to do when they keep seeing red light after red light, entrance ramp after entrance ramp, car after car… By the way, if you don’t have enough knowledge about driving, you are prone to accident. Good thing, you can lean on Sacramento, CA Car Accident Lawyers for they are dedicated in solving every accident cases no matter what the situation is.      Strangely, these are also the “Driving Without a License” States…