You drive like a cunt
It is bad enough that in Harare our roads are in poor shape, no matter where you are and where you’re coming from. What makes it even worse is that our vehicles are mostly heaping piles of crap anyways.
The current wet weather makes it worse, so now we’re all driving our piece-of-shit cars on snakeskin tyres down slippery pot-holed roads. At speed.
Listen, cunt – we’re all in a hurry. You don’t have to make an extra turning lane where one doesn’t exist. You don’t have to swing to the other lane at speed in rush hour without so much as a flick of the indicator. You don’t have to park your steaming heap of metal in the left lane and wave out the window for following traffic to go around you.
Is it necessary to go through a red robot on Second Street at lunch-time? No, but it seems everyone around me is doing this sort of shit and more, leaving me wondering what’s happened to us?
Fine, you wanna drive like that? You’re gonna have an accident, sooner or later. You’re gonna hit a pothole at speed, burst a tyre and roll. You’ll swerve off the road and hit a pole. Heaven forbid you go into oncoming traffic, but that shit could happen too.
And if it does, I hope you’re alone. I hope you have no passengers, I hope the car you hit isn’t so badly damaged, and I hope you don’t kill any innocents.
I hope you die.