Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Ode to Grumpy McJerkystops 

This is a little poem I wrote to one of the shuttle drivers who works the Enfield Rd. route that picks up right outside my apartment complex.

"Ode to Grumpy McJerkystops"
You drive that bus like you're in a race.
Like there's beer and pie if you win first place.
But the way you jam down on the brake, sans grace,
Sends a geyser of coffee up into my face.
The End

I hate you, McJerkystops. I hate you, your singularly ridiculous-looking Fu Manchu, and those fading tattoos on your chest and upper arms that may or may not be klan-related.

On the other hand, if you have some rare physical ailment that causes you to involuntarily kick your right foot forward, I applaud you for resting it over the brake pedal instead of the gas. I prefer my jerky stops to be pedal-induced -- at least when object-induced is the other option.


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