Based on the drive back from Tucson today, I am now accepting bids from contractors wishing to assist me in my plans in mounting an anti-tank missile launcher on the roof of my car. It may not be stylish, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let the chickenfuckery I experienced on the road today continue. Some rules of the road under my administration: 1. If you're in the left lane, you have to be doing at least the speed limit. Especially if there are cars piling up behind you. And you're not allowed to pace the car next to you for an extended period of time. 2. If you're on a two-lane highway and you get into the left lane to pass a tractor-trailer, you have to make sure you're not scared of passing trucks. 3. You're not allowed to brake for no apparent reason at all. Especially if there aren't any cars in front of you. Disobey the rules, and suffer the consequences of the anti-tank missile. How will I be able to enforce this, you ask? I present to you this sample conversation: POLICE OFFICER: License and registration, please. And I'd like to see some kind of permit for this contraption you used to blow up that Pontiac. KEITH: Here's my license and registration, officer. And as far as a permit for the anti-tank missile launcher, well, I was boxed in and in the left lane, and the asshole college kids in the Pontiac in front of me refused to get out of the way to let me pass, even after I flashed my high-beams at them after several minutes of trying to get around them, but there was a car beside me so I couldn't change lanes. After I flashed my high-beams at them a third time and they gave me the finger, I had absolutely no choice but to make them... go away. POLICE OFFICER: Oh, I understand completely. Sorry for the inconvenience. Here's your license and registration back. Have a nice night. KEITH: Thanks, Officer! You too.