There is a section of the 401 east express lanes right around Bayview that I can’t wait to drive on everyday. This particular section has absolutely no shoulder, rather just a hard concrete rail. Now should you be brave (or foolish) enough to drive in the fast lane next to the lovely concrete rail, you will not find a smooth paved road – which many would assume since they did road work there a year or two ago – no, what you’ll find is potholes the size of small bomb craters. The lane undulates and curves with unpredictability and constantly threatens to throw your car into the lane next to it. What’s more, these are by no means wide lanes, no, the same genius’ who decided to leave the potholes intact and place a giant rail where the safety normally granted by a shoulder would be, also saw fit to narrow all lanes just at this critical point.

Second only to the aforementioned section of 401, is another section of the 401 that I enjoy driving on, this time heading westbound. Right by the 400 connection where traffic will typically slow to a crawl as 2 of Ontario’s largest highways merge, they have decided to do roadwork. This section of the highway is perfectly smooth, and to the naked eye, there is absolutely nothing wrong with it. However, unbeknownst to the common driver, someone must have found a small pebble on this section of highway because they’ve been doing roadwork on it for two fucking summers looking for that same damn pebble. I can only imagine what the higher ups who are in charge of Ontario’s roads are thinking…

“Hmm…how can we possibly piss off drivers more than we are now? More importantly, how can we rape the taxpayer for more repairs that we really don’t need?”

“Ooh! I know! What about that section of the 401 east that we were working on a few years ago? To be honest sir, we kinda just left the job half done. It’s almost criminally dangerous really. We left potholes and bumps all over the place, narrowed the lanes and took away the shoulder…maybe we should fix that?”

“Smith! What kind of cracker-jack university did you graduate from!? If we repair that section, the commuters of Toronto will actually be happy. Happy! They won’t have anything to complain about and we’ll be forced to spend less tax dollars on meaningless crap! No…your idea makes waaay too much sense. No, I’ve got a better idea. We’ll repair the 401/400 junction. This way, we’ll be spending dollars on a perfectly good piece of road while simultaneously preparing our future of excess spending.”

“How does that work sir?”

“Well Smith, look at it this way, the more time that people spend stuck in traffic, the more time they will have to spot minor imperfections in the road. With the 401/400 junction at a complete standstill, we can get TWICE as many drivers to point out little crap that will take mega bucks to fix. Thus…our budget will continue to skyrocket…and we will continue to have jobs while the rest of Toronto can go fuck themselves!”

This afternoon a car slammed into a tractor-trailer on the aforementioned section of the eastbound 401. Consequently, the driver was pinned under the thing for hours while mangled and in shock, waiting for rescue crews to cut away the mess. Way to go Province of Ontario.

Fucking morons.

Gripes with people who have gripes against smokers.

First of all let me say this: I am a smoker, I’ve been for a long time, and despite my occasional efforts to quit, I’ll probably be a smoker for quite some time. Furthermore, let me also say this: I am a respectful smoker. I don’t blow smoke in people’s faces, I don’t smoke in other people’s cars, houses, or around their kids, and most of the times won’t even smoke in my own damn car if there is a non-smoker along for the ride.

So here’s my gripe. There are people out there who have taken it upon themselves to join the good fight and rid the world of smokers. Now I don’t mind this as long as they have the decency to do it in a respectful way. I understand that many people have lost loved ones to smoking related illnesses and that they may have very strong views on the subject, this is totally accepted. However…if I can be nice and not blow smoke in your face, then I’m sure you can be nice and try not to belittle me because I’m a smoker. Even worse are these pricks who aren’t even trying to get you to quit because of some underlying concern they may have, rather, they’re just trying to pick a fight (usually a safe one because smokers are often outnumbered…we die off easily, go figure).

About a year and a half ago, I was sitting in a (non-smoking) casino poker room playing some Texas Hold’Em. When the time came around for the dealer to switch decks, I got up from the table and stated “Well, that’s my cue to head for a smoke”. Now I was seated at a pretty friendly table with everyone chatting and generally just having a good time playing cards, so you can imagine my surprise when some 50 year old moron wearing a goofy train conductor’s hat decided to pipe up,

“Fucking smokers, hate them. You know that the average smoker costs our government (insert arbitrary number here) dollars a year!? Fucking people have no respect.”

Uh…S’cuse me?? I sat back down, ordered a beer and let the fireworks fly.

“Look buddy, I don’t crap on your right to sit here and play cards while wearing a creepy conductor’s hat that you stole off a 4 year old, so do me a favor and don’t crap on my right to smoke.”

At this point the table chuckles and my new friend turns visibly red.

“Yeah, well when your ‘right to smoke’ costs me and other taxpayers almost (insert same number here) dollars a year in healthcare, then I have every right to shit on it.”

“I see…so basically, based on your reason, I can now bash anyone who eats fast food, drives a car, plays sports, or anything else that may cause them to end up in the hospital? I mean, look at you Pudgy…in about 10 or 20 years I’m gonna be paying for you to get a triple bypass cause of all those McWhatever burgers you probably cram down your throat. Does that give me the right to stand outside McDonalds and call everyone a respect-less fuck?”

“It still doesn’t come close to (again with the same fucking number) dollars.”

“Ok, since you’re such a wiz with the numbers and figures, what exactly does the average fast food eater cost the healthcare system?”

Silence.

“You’ve already told everyone here that the average smoker costs (same number) dollars a year, so what does your average, everyday, healthy Canadian cost?”

Silence again while the entire table looks at him with smirks on their faces. At this point he’s about to jump out of his chair and tap-dance on my skull.

“So you’re telling me that you based your whole argument on some random number that you pulled out of a Cracker-Jack box!?”

“You little shit, I read it in the newspaper!”

“OOOOOH! And he reads too! Thanks Mr. Conductor! In the future though, unless you have something better to compare your statistic to than the number of calories in a McShake, please just shut the fuck up, play some cards, and let me smoke in peace.”

Buddy got pretty upset and lost it after that. He said something to the effect of “Blah, blah, CHINK, blah, blah” at which point the other players at the table called over the poker room manager and had him ejected. We then proceeded to laugh our asses off. Moron.

Aww hell, I forgot what the point of this story was now. I’m headed out for a smoke. Peace.

Cellphone gripes

People who shout into their cell phones: Okay here’s the deal. If you’re on the bus, in a restaurant, have shitty reception, whatever…unless the caller is telling you about an emergency or about the threesome he’s about to have with Swedish bikini model twins, tell him/her you’ll call back! Nobody, I repeat nobody needs to hear about what you’re having for dinner, your new shoes, how your son/dog/cat shat on the carpet, or anything else of that nature, especially not at volumes that would put most after market car stereos to shame. Either buy a new cell phone w/ better reception or hang up and call back later.

Guys who sprout vaginas while talking to their girl on the phone: I admit, I’m kinda guilty of this one but only to a certain extent. The following are acceptable terms; hun, babe, wife. The following are not; snookums, pookie, cupcake, anything that is repeated (ie: boo-boo, bear-bear, slut-slut). Seriously, stop phone spooning each other. If you wouldn’t fondle each other in public, have the decency to not do it over the phone. Now, it’s understood that while talking to your girl she is afforded a little more sensitivity than you would grant your friends, but pitching your voice a couple notes higher does not denote sensitivity. Rather, it makes you sound like an inbred moron who just got kicked in the nuts. For f*ck’s sake, man up and grow a pair.

And my last cellphone gripe of the day…

FOR F@CK’S SAKE…NO EARPIECES! News flash f@cktard, you are not an FBI or CIA Agent. If you are too damn lazy to take the phone out of your pocket and apply it to your ear, then please, speed up the natural selection process and go play hopscotch on the highway. Save everybody the trouble of thinking that you’re talking to yourself and/or that you’re a Trekky who’s asking Scotty to beam him up. The only acceptable uses of Bluetooth earphones or headsets are; a) if you are indeed with the FBI or the CIA, b) if you are from the future and are asking to get beamed up, c) if you’re driving, for obvious reasons, d) if you’re a fighter pilot, mercenary, and/or special forces, cause let’s face it, when Navy SEALS wear earpieces they look cool, when you wear an earpiece? NOT SO COOL. e) if you want me to punch you in the ovaries…moron.