The Department of Motor Vehicles

Okay… on the subject of customer service, I must bring up the most ultimate customer service disgrace known to man or woman… the Department of Motor Vehicles. Is there a record of any human being who has made it out of one of these without posttraumatic anger syndrome followed by a severe case of bedsores on their rear end?

Please let me know if there has been, as I cannot seem to get out of one of these in less than an hour even if I am just stopping by for a conjugal visit to a license-renew convicted girlfriend. Here is a tip: Always bring a friend with you, so that you can remember to turn each other over every few hours to keep the severest of symptoms to a minimum. This will tell you who your real friends are; I guarantee it.

I have never understood how such a simple procedure, like making a plastic ID, could be made any more complicated. Punch them in, punch them out; you should be in and out of there in 10 minutes tops. They act as if the privilege of driving a motor vehicle is sacred.

Sacred my bedsore ass; have you ever looked beside you while waiting for a traffic light at the misfits who are allowed on the road with a license? All you need is half a good eye, one flexible finger, a wooden peg leg, and a smiley stamp discharge from the Looney Bin as minimum requirements. Well, at least that is what my fourth grade bus driver used to tell me…

Been Dumped?

Are you recently divorced, separated, broken, dumped, about to be dumped, want to be dumped, or hoping to do a little dumping of your own? Are you friends getting pretty damn tired of hearing about your relationship, and all the wrongs you incurred or inflicted? Have you heard the words, “just move on!” more times than you’d care to admit? Well you need to join a group of dumpee’s; people who know just how you feel, because they themselves are going through the very same thing. Where can you find such a thing? Why on the good old Internet of course…