Speeding, Irony, and a$$ holes

I live on a quiet residential street. My house is on a corner lot at the intersection of said quiet residential street and a cul-de-sac (I think this is French for a street with a circle at the end). Some of the people in my neighborhood drive like maniacs. The speed limit is 25 MPH and some of these jackasses are probably driving 50 MPH.

One of the jackasses lives across the street. He is constantly whipping in and out of his driveway at high speed. You probably didn’t need to ask, but yes, he drives a BMW. Not to get off track, but BMW should really simplify things and just switch to an ad campaign along the lines of “BMW – Obnoxiously aggressive drivers wanted.” Or maybe create their own word along the lines of Fahrvergnugen. Fuggingruden? Azzholedriiving? Beggestfuggingjaqazzontherode? Any of these work for me.

Now that I’ve totally lost me train of thought… Oh yeah, so this guy has a toddler-aged child whom we have never seen outside of the house. When one of our neighbors asked this guy to slow down his response was along the lines of “I live here. I’ll drive as fast as I like. Keep your kids out of the street.” Seriously dude. It’s a cul-de-sac. If you’re that starved for time, stop washing your car five times a week!

My favorite culprit is the woman who drives a silver Volvo wagon and lives on the cul-de-sac that has the “drive slow – children at play sign.” Irony – she’s the biggest offender. One day, she had the audacity to honk at me when she was stuck behind me and I was driving 30 MPH. I like to think there is a special place in hell reserved for people like her…