Crotch...

So, I'm driving home from work, zip-zappin' along, minding my own business. Then, out of nowhere, this chick mergers in front of me in her craptastic Jetta. While on her cell phone. And doesn't give an apologetic wave. Nothing. Acts like the whole world is made of delicious gravy. Well, I had news for her; the world is not, and will not be until we develop robots sophisticated enough, made of gravy. So, I decided to show her what's what.

So, I merge to the left and zip up right next to her. You know, to give her a pained expression, conveying to her that she's driving like a crotch. When I get up there, I look over at her her, my crotch face expression all ready, and was astonished to see that it was a dude! Well, as much as a dude as you can be when

1. You have flowing blonde hair that would make Rapunzel jealous and
2. You're driving a Jetta

I decided not to give this douche the crotch face, since I assume he gets ripped on all the time by his co-workers at McDonald's...for his flowing blonde hair and his Jetta. See...even 14 year olds can tell he's a tool...