Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Think again, asshole.

I’ve decided to become your a-typical South African and drive like a complete poepol.

Frankly I find it rich everyone moaning about the exploits of the VIP (ha-ha) Protection Unit but, then, when we get our turn on the roads we do so with complete disregard for any law, any rules or any proper decorum whatsoever.

What makes your job / appointment / date with the devil more important than mine that you figure it okay to drive right to the front of the off ramp queue and switch on your indicators? Which, by the way, is also the only time you seem to know where it’s located. You then further have the audacity or, as I suspect, plain kak upbringing, that when I begrudgingly give your sorry ass some space, you ignore me like you are royalty or something.

You flippen dickhead. You do realise I am there, however, when I decide NOT to give you space, your nincompoop. Then the heavens part and the seven horsemen of the Apocalypse unleash a torrent of hellfire – not to mention your orangutan antics behind the steering wheel of that taxi, 4X4 or luxury German sedan. I bet your mother would be disappointed in you. Such hope for a decent human being, all down the drain the second your pompous backside takes a seat on the driver’s side. As if your incredible disrespect for everyone on the road, bar yourself, isn’t enough to make a nun swear – you then add insult to injury by throwing your paper, cans, boxes, kittens and cigarette butts out the window for who knows to clean.

What the fuck is wrong with you? Have you taken a good long look at that doos staring back in the mirror? Can you truly, honestly, without any reservation this morning state that you are not the unequivocal spawn of Satan when taking to the streets of this land? How many people do you piss off per day?

Calculate that you mampara and then think about the ripple effect your kak behaviour had on the economy of this country. Those souls you peeved with your piss-poor practice were less productive at work. No doubt they shat on some intern for no reason, barked at the board, snapped at the spouse and then – because that sad soul felt hard done by and in need for revenge, they went and did exactly the same stupid shit to someone else.

And so it goes.

No wonder we are a nation of half-drunk, half-wit, half-human Neanderthals – and it’s all because of you. Think about that today when you come flying down the emergency lane, or the wrong side of the road, over a red traffic light, or whatever. Think about the effect your stupidity is going to have on the wellbeing of the nation and then, asshole, think again.

Yes, I am talking to you.

4 Opinion(s):

Anonymous said...

Excellent and true Dobe. It took me at least a year to adjust and learn that people here blow their horn out of courtesy and not to pick a fight.I don't think they necessarily drive any better, but there is none of that aggression or fok jou attitude on the roads which just make it much safer and less stressful to get to work.

Anonymous said...

Sad but true, and if I may say so well written! I emigrated nearly nine years ago, but spend at least a month's holiday in SA each year. I cannot believe how the S'African driving has deteriorated over the past decade.

Anonymous said...

It is symptomatic of a fucked up nation. The individuals that make up the whole cannot see how their behaviour en masse causes anarchy. For the rest of us, the stress is cancer inducing.

Anonymous said...

I have moved closer to work, used to spend up to 3hours a day in traffic!

I think our biggest problem is un-roadworthy cars with incompetent, unlicensed drivers at the wheel. They travel at 60km/h in the fast lane, causing severe congestion for a kilometres behind them. People travelling at 110km/h (In a 120km/h zone) then having to slam on breaks or bottleneck into the centre or left lanes to avoid collision (if not resulting in one), thus causing a chain reaction all the way back.

Driving from PTA to JHB at night is like negotiating a minefield. These cars break down on (road work ridden) highway lanes with no lights, hazards or reflectors to alert you to their presence. You only know the car is there when it almost too late. I have been in so many near-collisions involving these death traps that I have lost count. This in conjunction with other crazed people and daredevil truck drivers is enough to send you into cardiac arrest.