I had a realization today. I have literally no control over what comes out of my mouth when I’m behind the wheel of my car, which I always am because I’m a sales rep. And this time of year the northeast is insanely congested and everyone’s driving like either they’ve never operated one of these newfangled motor vehicle thingies before, or they’re going for the grand prize in the Indie 500. So, today some douche rocket cuts me off and these words spontaneously burst forth from my pie hole: “Whoa there, Fuck Face McGee!” And then I spend the next ten minutes wondering:
1) Who exactly is Fuck Face McGee? An Irish gangster? (And then I picture myself interviewing him, Barbara Walters-style, trying to figure out who he is really, which is even more comical in light of what he looks like as discussed in #3).
2) Is there such thing as stress-induced Tourette’s Syndrome, and if so, can you get it from driving?
3) Does Fuck Face McGee have vaginas for eyes/mouth and a penis for a nose since he has a fuck face? And why do I picture him looking a lot like a dirtier version of Squidward from my nephews’ Sponge Bob cartoons?
4) Do other people go temporarily insane in situations like these and instead of getting violent, get spontaneously creative instead, and make up comical-yet-insulting nicknames for people they don’t know?