I hate Staten Island.

Could they make these seats any more fucking uncomfortable?

Somehow I managed to spend only about half an hour at the Department of Motor Vehicles this morning.  I had apparently beaten the rush by seconds, as after I’d been given my little deli counter ticket and told to wait, a massive line had materialized behind me; I blithely wandered over to the nearly-empty waiting room as I watched more and more hapless fucks queue up at the reception desk and thought “there but for the grace of God go I.”

The "I" stands for "I'm going to kill myself."

The logo that haunts my nightmares.

While my stay at the DMV was surprisingly painless and swift, I was nearly killed three separate times driving both to and from there thanks to the quintessential douchebag known as the New York Driver.  If there’s one thing I enjoy about living in Pennsylvania, it would definitely be the lack of massive bleeding assholes on the road everywhere you go.  The only people who drive worse than New Yorkers would be people from New Jersey, and driving from NY to home is always harrowing during that long stretch on Interstate 78, where it’s like the qualifiers for the Asshole Olympics all day every day, rain or shine.

Ain't nothin' ta fuck wit.

Not even the Wu can redeem that horrible island.

Of course, I-78 is like a Sunday drive compared to getting off of Long Island.  This place is like a death trap, and since it’s either take the Verrazano Bridge and be subjected to a $13 toll (plus having to go through Staten Island, which is punishment enough) or take the Queens-Midtown Tunnel, cut across Manhattan, and then flee the borough via the Lincoln Tunnel, all for the “bargain” price of $6.50.  The thought of going through not one but two underwater tunnels invariably makes my balls clench, and the experience of driving through Midtown usually tempts me to pray for a swift and merciful death, but I’ll be damned if I’m paying thirteen bucks for the privilege of driving through a place that makes the cast of The Jersey Shore look like fucking Shakespearean stage actors.  Let’s face it, the only thing good to ever come out of Staten Island is the Wu-Tang Clan, and they left.

I should probably just get one of those EZPass things since having one earns you discounted bridge and tunnel tolls, but my Inner Conspiracy Theorist always quails at the thought of giving the government yet one more way to track your movements and activities. At the same time, I’m not going to be able to afford too many tinfoil hats if I keep this up.  Thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster my car gets really good gas mileage; it’s bad enough that there’s a 30-cent difference in the price of gas between New York and Pennsylvania.

I will say that waking up and reading The New York Times this morning was nice.  Beats the Hell out of reading the op-ed page of the local fish wrapper, which invariably consists of how Pottstown and Reading are being ruined by all the Puerto Ricans that move into the area – meanwhile most Puerto Rican families have been American citizens longer than these Caucasian jackwagons.

Abba-Zaba, you my only friend.

Say it with me: "bo-de-ga."

I swear, it’s like these people get upset if they hear about a new bodega going in on the corner.  Don’t these people realize that you can’t get your drugs from the local Wawa?

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8 thoughts on “I hate Staten Island.

  1. LOL my pet peve are people who don’t stop at stop signs but come screaching to a halt halfway into the intersection of a busy main road, all in the hope of not having to stop at all.

    This is turning into an epidemic here on long island and despite my Buddhist, non confrontational/pacifist (Fuck you if you don’t believe me) nature. I would like nothing more than to slam on the breaks, get out of my car and punch through the driver side window and go full Grand Theft Auto on the fuckfaces ass.

    I mean you have to picture it… Your driving down say Pulaski Road. Your in a long line of steady moving traffic. Doing about 40 (in a 30 and feeling good about not driving too fast), when all of a sudden you notice movement out of the corner of your right eye.

    A dude in a New Beamer doing about 30 is showing no signs of even slowing down for the stop sign that is the only thing protecting you from being Tboned.

    You glance ahead and to the left and see the line of speedy oncoming trafic and realize that if your hit your going to be pushed right into that oncoming dump truck.

    Glancing in your rear view you note the Damn Mustang that has been riding your ass the whole way from home, that will no doubt rear end the shit out of you if you slam on the breaks.

    At this point you recognize that you have no real options, the only thing that will keep you from being in a sick car accident is how effective the breaks are in the Beamer careening toward you.

    You can see the asshole at the wheel, he sees you, and you know that somewhere in that cocksuckers little mind he’s mad at YOU for being in his way. At the last possible second, he slams on the breaks and comes to a stop with the front of his car nearly halfway into your lane.

    All you can do is swerve and praise Odin for the tiny gap in the oncoming trafic that has given you the room you need to get around the fuckface in the Beamer, without getting into a headon colission with a rear ending from the tailgater behind you.

    Somehow the mustang behind you also managed not to get smashed and you note in the rearview window that the dick tip in the Beamer has long since thrown his status symbol in reverse and backed out of the middle of the road.

    you finally remember to breath, and as you begin to note the warm and wet sensation in your lap you see in the corner of your right eye, another side road with a socker mom hurtling toward the intersection, eyeballing you the same way the shit stain in the Beamer did and the adventure begins again.

    Seriously, I don’t like hurting people, but there is a kind of homocidal rage that builds up in me when I see this shit happen like once every 2.3 minutes I’m on the road.

    These people need me to get a tattoo gun and tatoo:

    “STOP AT THE STOP SIGN AND SLOWLY ROLL UP TO THE INTERSECTION” tattooed on their foreheads so they see it every time they look in the rearview.

    This would of course be tattoed into their forehead after I have caved it in with a tire iron like a deflated socker ball.

    ROAD RAGE!

    • Your entire hypothetical scenario is completely unrealistic because I drove by Pulaski Road today on my way back from standing in line at the DMV at the Big H shopping center and I saw it was closed west of New York Ave.

      SO THERE!

      Oh wait, you live out in Greenlawn. Fuck. Never mind.

      I lol’d, by the way.

    • Your analogy is invalid. You don’t drive…lol!

      My major issue with most drivers, and yes the ones in PA are just as horrible with this, is that they don’t understand the rules for ‘right of way’. They put a small circle in Huntington, and 90% of the drivers I’ve encountered at it have had no clue what the fuck they were doing. To them, if they get to the circle before you, then they have the right to cut you off.

      Then there’s the rotary out by Riverhead. I’m amazed there isn’t a pile up there daily. The rotarys in Jersey are not as bad, since there are so many of them.

      PA is apparently loaded with pickup truck drivers that will ride your ass on a windy road and flash their lights at you just because you haven’t memorized every turn and take it slow around blind turns. Don’t kid yourself, there are asshole drivers everywhere. NY and NJ are just more densly populated.

      • Oh god, I thought the assholes in the pick up trucks was just me!

        That happens every god damned time I go out anywhere I’m not familiar with yet around here. Some of these little side roads are winding as hell, and while I’m trying to take these turns at a speed that won’t send my car into the Schulykill, I’ve got Asshole McLargeTruck riding my ass like we’re in prison and I owe him a carton of cigarettes.

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