I am a name-caller. As a matter of fact, I am an expert at it when I'm in traffic.
Just this morning some IDIOT holds up traffic on route 28 so she can attempt to parallel park to get Dunkins coffee.
Then Grandpa GEEZER just has to get in front of me in a 45 mph speed zone so he can drag his sorry ass at 28 mph for about four miles in a non-passing zone.
Leaving work I get behind a teenager who is driving with her hazards on, totally oblivious as she and her copilot chatter away, arms moving all around. MORON, I yell, moron, moron, moron.
I turn onto route 125 and find myself, much like this morning, traveling at a mere 35 mph in a 50 mph zone, near-last in a long, long, long line of vehicles stuck behind a very slow truck. Damn SONOFABITCH! I have places to go, people to see.
I do not consider myself a bully. I might be an occasional snide-remarker. Name-calling, though? It's an art, and it is my canvas.
