Anyone who knows me very well can attest to my extremely low tolerance for traffic.  There are some who openly suggest that my composure may be somewhat lacking.  My pastor is among them.  I've been mentioned in his sermons more than once.

Traffic jams are inevitable in major cities.  This is not, however, caused by too many cars.  It's because with an increased population, cities have a higher concentration of morons per square mile.

It's come to my attention that most traffic problems involve brake lights.  Six miles ahead, some guy thinks, "I wonder if my brake lights are working?"  He checks up and looks in the mirror to see if the guy behind him turns white.  It's a chain reaction.  After you nearly get rear-ended by a semi, you think, "I wonder if my brake lights are working?"

It's time to bring an end to this insanity.  I am asking all concerned citizens to go outside this moment and disconnect your brake lights.  Sure, we may have one or two fender-benders at first, but freedom doesn't come without a price.   Winston Cup drivers can cram forty cars into a space the size of a playpen, and breeze around at nearly two hundred miles per hour.  This would never work if they had brake lights.

Another problem is that we now have an entire generation of drivers who can't go to the bathroom without a cell phone.  A Canadian study found that people who use a phone while driving are as likely to be involved in an accident as a drunk driver.  Given that, you have to wonder why police cars advertise a free number for cell phone users to report drunk drivers.  This isn't one of their more intelligent campaigns.  I wonder how they'd feel about drunk drivers calling in to report cell phone users?

Over the years, I've learned that defensive driving is nothing more than keeping the offensive driver in his own lane.  This can be done one of two ways.   For amateur idiots, just tap the horn.  With the more seasoned jackass, you have to be willing to swap paint.  It's not a sport for the faint of heart.

The first thing you have to do is get the right equipment.  You basically have two choices, and since I'm decidedly against gunplay, I opted for a full-size truck.  Since most speed demons drive cars that match the size of their brain, I have the advantage.

Nothing ticks me off faster than some hot shot who thinks his time is more valuable than mine.  I'm referring to those inbred losers who speed past a stopped line of traffic to cut in front of those of us who can positively identify both parents.  I have a simple policy in such cases: My truck can run over your car, so don't even try it.