His Most Righteous Airborne Semolina Strands shall tolerate no petty traffic offenses from amongst the ranks of his True Believers. Heed these words, O children of the Grain! Verily, thou shall use thine turn indicators before such time as thou shall make a turn; before a left turn, and before a right turn, according to their kinds. In both instances shall thee use them equally. So too shall you, my True Believers, maintain assured clear distance from the drivers in front of thee, though they be morons who inhibit thine (only slightly over legally posted) speed. For verily, thou art not the drivers of the cars in front of thee, nor can thou go through them, as they are objects solid as granite, and should you hitteth them, the collision would be considered thine fault, and the payment of the deductible great.
Should you find yourself to be the victim of the heretic infidel, the tailer of the gate, thou are to make sure thou are doing the posted speed and maintain a temperament worthy of the True Believer of Your Extruded Nutritious Wheat-Based Lord. You shall not mess with the idiot behind thee. You shall not speed up for short distance only to slow down for short distance. You shall not check to see if brakes work, neither the brakes of your car, nor the brakes of the jerkface behind thee. Ye shall attempt to refrain from the stretching of the arm and the extension of the chosen
finger, though it be mightily tempting, and The Lord Thy Glob doth quite understand, but still refrain, for it is better to pull over and keep your life long, than to mess with a fool who may shorten it.
For the sake of thy Great Glob in Heaven, thou are not to be a fool who believes it to show great status among human kind to blast your chosen music throughout the streets for all to hear. It is an abomination. Not the choice of thine music is an abomination, mind you, but the deafening volume at which the idiot who blasts it doth blast it. Blast not with the woofers nor the tweeters, nor anywhere throughout the midrange. Blast not at the intersection, nor in the parking lot, nor through the neighborhood, nor in the presence of the person of oneâ€™s chosen attraction, for yea and verily, please figure out that no one is impressed. The Monster Who Has Rounded Orbs of Meat and Hovers in Heaven has blessed his Creation with music to make his Creatures happy, music of all kinds that his Creatures may rejoice. Be not an inconsiderate jackass who thinks everyone in the whole world is dying to hear the music of thine choice. Trust the Big Monster on this one: they are not, and they do regard thee as most idiotic.
And another thing, and this doth peeve His Glorious Hovering Pasta no end: thou shall keep thy mind on thy driving and thine eyes on the road. There shall be no long chatting on the phones of the cell, there shall no applying of the makeup to the face, no shaving of the beard, no reading of the map, the newspaper, the Romance novel, nor solving of the crossword puzzle. There shall be no watching of the movie by thee as thou art driving. There shall be no watching of the DVD, nor the VCR tape, nor the Television, neither VHF nor satellite. Have thee lost thy freaking mind? Verily should the sane among you, and the True Believers who wish to live long lives and see their children live long lives, seek to pass earthly laws against these abominations, and seek to have them duly enforced. For those who escape Earthy justice, especially flat and bland beer doth await you in Heaven.
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