Lane Splitters

Here in California, lane-splitting is legal. For those of who don’t know, lane-splitting is when a motorcycle drives between cars. The law was made way back when motorcycles overheated in stopped traffic. Today, that’s not much of a problem, but the law stays on the books.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not just bitching because they can scoot through traffic while the rest of us suckers sit still with our thumbs up our asses. That part is awesome.

No, what I fucking hate are the guys that split lanes when traffic is moving. You’ll be going 60-70 miles an hour and some nut job on a crotch rocket will come out of nowhere and narrowly avoid your side mirror.

The real reason I hate lane-splitters is they stop traffic twice as much. First, when they crash and second for their funerals.

Heart 2 Heart Question

My father-in-law had to have quadruple bypass surgery due to some massive blockage around his heart. For those of you who don’t know, bypass surgery is when they take the good veins from the legs and go around, or bypass the bad arteries or aorta.

After he recovered, he complained he still has to watch his diet otherwise, he’d back for another bypass. Apparently the veins in your legs don’t get clogged with cholesterol and plaque. So why don’t they just move your heart down to your leg instead?

MRI

I was in a car accident a little over a year ago. A white minivan ran the red light and t-boned me at 40 mph. I walked away from it, but later went to the doctor because I was experiencing some pain. After an inconclusive x-ray, the doctor ordered an MRI. Turns out, I had a tiny fracture in my hip socket.

I’ve had plenty of x-rays before, this was my first MRI. When I got to the place, the guy asked me if I was claustrophobic. I said, no. I’ve taken the BART home at rush hour plenty of times and ridden in crowded elevators. How bad could it be.

He asked the wrong question. What he should have asked was have I ever been buried alive. Or spent more than 45 minutes trapped in a coffin while people were trying to excavate asphalt with heavy machinery. He did give me headphones to listen to music. He should have also asked me if I liked smooth jazz.

I’d like to know who approved the design of these things? They’re so user unfriendly, it’s like they shipped the very first version of one without testing it. Every other technology has gotten smaller, as its gotten more powerful.

The MRI is a room-sized machine that makes a shitload of noise. It’s just a magnetic field penetrating your body. You’d think they could just take two iPhone and wave them around you and get the same output. God knows those things are putting out way more energy.

Two Wheeling

A few years back, my biking buddies and I were hanging at a Starbucks near a train station. A bunch of us were talking when we drowned out by the sirens of emergency vehicles. They were heading for the station. We found out later that a 95 year old man riding his bike had been hit by the train while crossing the tracks. Turns out the old guy committed suicide.

Don’t get me wrong, it was very sad. But that isn’t really the best way to go. With a train, there’s always the chance you’ll survive. Besides, if you’re 95 and still riding a bike, and you like taking chances, why not go for broke? If it were me, I’d go with some blow and a hooker and see what happens. There’s always a chance that won’t kill you either, but at least it’s fun trying.

What a Drag it is Getting Old

When I was younger, for some reason, drag queens and older black women seemed to have a thing for me. I think it was my baby face. It took me years before I could grow a decent amount of facial hair, and the only celebrity I was ever mistaken for was Fred Savage.

I’ve aged and so have my fans. I used to get hit on by the likes of Anita Mann, and Ruby Falls. Today it’s more likely to be Urethra Franklin, Gyna Lotrimin, and Kathy Griffin.

Broken Records

Last week, 4 people died trying to climb Mount Everest…again. Can we please shut that down? By now, literally nobody gives a shit if you can reach the summit. Anyone with an REI membership and $50,000 can pretty much do it.

Remember that Steve Fossett guy? He circled the globe in a hot air balloon back in 2007. But then they showed his balloon. It wasn’t like he was Phileas Fogg going around in a wicker basket wearing leather goggles. No, he looked like he was flying around in an Airstream camper. It had all kinds of crazy technology like a heat and GPS navigation.

That Fossett guy tried like ten time before he finally did it. At some point you have to think he’s just an idiot. When you see those regular hot air balloons, there’s really no way to control them other than going up and down. I’m more impressed that people DON’T end up half way around the world every time they go up. The real record should be for the guy who can go 3 blocks in one without hitting power lines.

Sadly, Fossett went down in his personal plane just out for a routine trip. When stuff like that happens, there’s always someone who says, “he died doing what he loved.” No. Not really. What he loved was flying. He died crashing.

That’s Irritainment

 

I used to like going out drinking on Thursday nights. It feels like you’re getting a head start on your weekend. No so much in the suburbs. I feel like you can’t go into a decent bar now without having some dipshit playing their acoustic guitar in the corner. They’re always just loud enough that it’s hard to talk and for some reason they think everyone is there to see them.

I love when they stop to make small talk with the crowd. Everybody thinks they’re done. They tell you some stupid story about the song their about to play and with the first chord everybody lets out a pathetic sigh.