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Proof That Women Are Horrible Drivers

written August 2008

A while back I used the old my girlfriend cheated on me so I’m still damaged goods line on a girl to get laid. I supplemented this by berating the female population, calling women flakey, bad drivers, blah blah blah. As expected she ate it up. She thought I needed her specific reassurance that not all girls are like that; as though no other girl has told me that. In her eyes I wasn’t embracing reality. No, in her eyes I was a broken man. One of the cute little things she said to try to comfort me (and to hint that she was a viable option) was, Maybe one day you'll find a girl that has two brain cells and can drive. Bwahaha. Silly female, driving is for men.

Let me put that statement in its proper perspective for you. Strike 1: she’s a girl. Strike 2: she's from NEW JERSEY. If those aren't reasons enough for her to stay off the road, consider that she has a huge scar running up the entire length of her forearm from an accident. What happened, you ask? She hit a retaining wall. This girl hit a large, inanimate object hard enough to warrant surgery, and she’s telling me she can drive. That’s like a kid from the Special Olympics tell me he’s good at baseball.

Now I’m fully aware a generalization like that could be considered brash, and maybe even unfair to kids in the Special Olympics. So being one who doesn’t like to generalize, I decided to do a little experiment. I drove for an entire day around the greater Baltimore area with a pencil and paper. There were two columns on my pad: one for males and one for females. Every time a subject displayed characteristics of poor driving (using a cell phone, doing makeup in the mirror, having long hair, driving a Hummer, etc.) she received a checkmark in her respective column. The results:

The results may seem a bit skewed since two checkmarks instead of one were given for each instance a woman did something wrong. But to be fair, if they’re never wrong when they argue, they should certainly be held to a higher standard when they drive. That’s perfectly reasonable.

The women’s results were expected, but the lone male was a shock to me. Outraged at his giving men everywhere a bad name, I followed him home to learn more about him, as he obviously must be blind, or worse, metrosexual. It turned out that he lived in a quiet apartment in Towson, and although he displayed faulty driving on this one occasion, he was as far from feminine as possible. Upon exiting his car to enter his apartment, I saw him flick off an elderly couple, kick their Pomeranian, and yell at unsuspecting children. After entering his apartment he let out a wet fart and proceeded to undress. At first I thought he was wearing a wool sweater beneath his outer garments, but I soon realized he just had an enormous amount of body hair. After dressing into something more comfortable (his birthday suit) he started typing furiously into his laptop. It was at this point when I was able to deduce that his poor driving was simply the effect of an experiment he was conducting while on the road. Because his poor driving was for such a noble cause (and he was manlier than anybody I’ve seen in my entire life), I decided to introduce myself, lest he discover my presence and kill me in a blind rage. I introduced myself, and as a gesture of good will I offered to put on some lesbian porn and cook him a steak, medium-rare of course. He obliged. After I helped satisfy him in those regards, I offered to hold his monstrous man meat while he took a leak on a picture of Hillary Clinton. He was gracious enough to allow me, and as a gesture of gratitude allowed me to take a nap on his comfortable pullout couch. I accepted his invitation and slept like an angel. My day had unexpectedly gone from an investigation to the luckiest day of my life. When I awoke from my slumber I couldn’t find him anywhere. I then happened upon a mirror only to discover that I had been watching myself in the third person the entire time. If anybody has ever had an out of body experience, you know it can impair your driving. Mystery solved.

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