Hello Darkness! The Official Blog of Helen Keller

Folks, having driven on roads for most of my driving life, I've noticed a couple of simple truths which hold true truly and truthfully. Without too much ego, I've discovered road axioms which make me fucking supertastic head-honcho laser-guided go-go-powered God-King of 21 Jump Street. Since at times I can be burdened by the sheer weight of my own genius, I share these axioms with you, my fellow road-travellers, such that we may know them together, and know the assholes to whom they apply together as well.

THE SHITTIER THE CAR, THE FASTER IT GOES

If there's a blizzard in your town, and in your rear-view mirror you detect what appears to be a rusty bottle-rocket of a car blazoning up the lane with the greatest amount of snow piled up in it, you can be sure that the car doing the snow-plowing is one of the oldest fucking cars since creation. Chances are, it's an age-old Reliant, Lee Iacocca's grimy K-Car smile all over it, with some rounder hick at the wheel. This will be the car with the baldest tires, the loosest steering and a windshield smashed into kaleidoscope fractals, but that won't stop rounder hick from doing anything but keeping his ugly foot on the accelerator. You'll usually find Rounder Hick and his shitbucket Reliant doing the same thing in heavy rainstorms, windstorms or freezing rain. Everyone else on the road will be diving out of the way left, right and centre to avoid his uninsured ass as he swerves dangerously close to oncoming traffic, ditches, homeless people sleeping on the highway whilst he looks in the back seat for his whiskey bottle which he dropped two miles back.

This car will not slow down, nor will it ever get out of the left-hand lane. The shitbucket Reliant's natural enemy is the early 90's Buick "Built-for-Fuck" LeSabre. Two of these danger-cars on the freeway should signal to the rest of the God-fearing populace to simply look the hell out and let them Matterram each other into oblivion. After the crash, try and count the empty cigarette packs and crumpled John Deere hats which float to the ground.

THE CAR WITH THE MOST DENTS TAKES THE MOST CHANCES

Ever seen a Pontiac Laurentian with absolute buckets of primer all over the dents and buff-marks? Sure as shit, this car has seen absolute hell during it's life in the form of drive-through yellow-poles, mailboxes,traffic lights, school crossing signs, kids,ranch-fencing, other cars, bikes, freight trains and the occasional city bus. The car with the good ol' Detroit steel frame fears nothing and consequently, can't be bothered with things like signalling, looking, stopping on time or red-lights. After all, what is another dent in the frame of the Manglemobile already? Even a head-on collision with the moon might
make the front passenger door stick a little, what could your car possibly do?

Generally, old poor people drive the Manglemobile. Don't count on insurance. At some point in their lives, old people just give up caring about living and their cars represent this new take on life. Any teen who inherits one of these cars will generally decorate it in shitty stickers and then, not crash it since it's their only ride. So, old poor people drive these things. Old people can't drive period and poor people need to live on an island somewhere so it's even a worse combination than ketchup and a brick to the face. If you find this car in the parking lot, generally parked on top of a bicycle, check out the grill for an interesting millieu of recent travels. Much like owl-poop, you can almost chart the old fuck's travels. The yellow paint smear means he collided with the yellow-pole at the McDonald's drive-through. The clotted blood with the clump of hair is probably that kid on the news that was a victim of a hit-and-run. The newspapers all caught up in the wheel-well is most likely from crushing a newsbox backing out of the pharmacy drive-through.

Beware these vehicles.

TOO MUCH CRAP MEANS TOO MANY KIDS

Garfield in the window? One kid. Spongebob head rests? At least two kids. Hello-Kitty all over rear window? Could be a fat anime fan. Or a multitude of kids. Kids in cars are dangerous. They're too stupid to survive on their own and consequently, the provide nothing but distraction to the driver, most likely a parent or kidnapper. Therefore, kids in the car must be avoided. If it's a mom who's spending way too much time looking in the rear-view mirror, she's lost control of the interior of the car which means pretty soon she'll lose control period and become a swerving two-ton death machine loose near you. Grandparents aren't much better either. As said before, old people can't drive anyway, but grandparents are weak and will succumb to child's demands for frequent food-stops or other such nonsense meaning they're on the road, off the road, on the road, off the road. You don't need this shit. You need a computer monitor shoved up your ass sideways, cord and all, followed by a squirt of mustard before you need to be on the road with a car with too many kids. They'll only serve to make you angry, or constipated, I don't know your biology.

WORK VANS ARE ALL THREE OF THE ABOVE

I don't know why, but take any utility van or work-truck and you've instantly got a recipe for disaster. People whose job depends on driving a little somehow believe the road belongs to them and ordinary commuters are nudging in their begotten territory. Thus, look the screaming fuck out for work vans. Check out the front seat and you'll see a ship of idiots all drinking Coffee Time, all in a row. They're sweaty, jocked up on bad ideas and a sense of entitlement to the road. You'll see work vans plow on past cars during the heaviest snow-storm, honk school-buses with the arms down to hurry up, jam up drive-throughs, cut across lawns or medians just to shave a few seconds off their precious drive time.

Simply put, work vans should be treated as rabies-cannons. Steer the fuck clear.

But, trust me fanaholics, as you drive on the road,you will see these truths materialize before your eyes. Be amazed...and then be afraid. Then, be home
for Lost. That show kicks ass.