I was thinking today that having to drive to work is kind of like being forced to dig your own grave; or having to carve your own coffin out of a single piece of wood.
Really, I have to sit in traffic to get to someplace that sucks? Fuck that.
In these dark times, I turn to the winged horse Pegasus. My people are working on a deal in which I can ride Pegasus to and from work every day. I plan on feeding him lots of chili so he'll shit all over the poor fuckers stuck in gridlock on Hurstbourne Lane.
Am I losing my mind? Clearly.