Angry? Mad as hell and you can't take it anymore? Get something off your chest and it could be published online and/or in print. Bitches are anonymous and may be edited for length, grammar, spelling and our lenient standards of propriety.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Your dog's license doesn't authorize him to drive
To the stupid woman in the red Ford station wagon Saturday morning, heading to Halifax on the MacKay Bridge:
Traffic was stop and go as all of the lanes from the toll booth merged into one due to construction. I'm not sure why you thought it was a good idea to rummage through a grocery bag, find, unwrap and eat a sandwich, with one hand occasionally touching the steering wheel, but surely you didn't think it made you a BETTER driver to have your yippy little dog jump between your lap, your head, and your shoulders as you "drove".
Since you obviously didn't care about the likelihood that you were going to cause injury and property damage to others because you couldn't be bothered to control your car, consider this: when you do cause an accident the airbag is going to kill Fluffy. And the white powder will leave his chalk outline on your face. —Queen
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