To all the assholes in my neighbourhood that think we live on a racetrack—the speed limit is 50 km/hr. That's right folks, 50 km. Please remember that the next time you come flying up the street and see me backing out of my driveway. Please remember that you weren't actually anywhere near my house when I got two thirds out into the street and was just about to put my car in drive when I spotted you in my rear view mirror. And it would be great if you could actually start to slow down when you get to the crest of the blind hill and see me backing out 200 feet ahead of you instead of maintaining speed and slamming on your brakes at the last second in an effort to communicate how pissed you are that I am impeding your progression to the stop sign 100 ft up the street. The nerve of me to want to back out of my driveway and slow you down! So, really, don't look so surprised when I flip you the bird and call you an asshole—I just call 'em as I see 'em... —Hoping Someone Drives Up Your Ass Very Soon