The best part of traffic is the sweat. It creeps up on you like some sort of person equipped with a sneak suit who is good at espionage. You are just sitting there minding your own business, listening to whatever drek is on Q101, and then you feel it… in all the naughty little crevices your body tries to hide. Moisture. Sticky, salty, creeping sweat.

Fuck you sweat, I’m better than you. I have a car, and a girlfriend, and access to vast amounts of snack goods at my local grocery store. Fuck you sweat. I could end you if I wasn’t worried that my car would explode if I used the AC.

Also I have thumbs which are pretty great.

-kidc

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