You know the old saying "When it rains, it pours", right? Yeah same here. Good saying. My Dad used to say that shit all the time. Come to think of it, he's pretty much full of hilarious, and some not-so-hilarious little sayings. I like to repeat them to my friends for the purpose of amusement. Anyway, I'm getting side-tracked already.

First of all let's get one thing straight. What I'm about to describe to you is based on a couple of personal experiences that just so happened to occur within days of each other. Don't trip, this isn't turning into some fruity web log. As funny as I'm sure my life is to you people, you're out of luck. I'm just going to use these occurances as an example of why I'm the fucking man, and everyone else is not.

Everyone who knows me knows I slave away hardcore at my job, day in and day out. Nonetheless I manage to keep a nice optimistic outlook on life. So this particular day, it's 5 p.m., so I mash out. Bam. Hit the door, get into the Mule (one of my rides), and roll out. The city I work in, is one of those yuppy mother fucking cities that's all full of itself, and is filled with Police who don't have anything to do; ever. Nothing really ever happens there, so it's not like they're used to solving crimes. Most of them spend their time driving around issuing tickets for incomplete stops, expired registration tags, and harassing me. I once got stopped before work by the Elroys, and he had the nerve to ask me why I wasn't in school.

Now on the surface, that seems a bit exagerated, but that's just how I really talk. I'm not saying it's easy being the man, but somebody's gotta do it.

The purpose of that, was just to give you a background of my situation. So let's get back up to speed. I got off work, and mobbed out. So I'm cruising down the street, which is pretty populated by pedestrians, at about 25 (legal in a business or residential area in California). I get about a block from my job, and this older guy is off to the side of a crosswalk, deep on the sidewalk. I notice, because he's looking dead at me. As I approach, he gives me the middle finger! HARD!.... I was fucking shocked... this isn't even like a pro middle finger. It's the ugly finger. You know the one when you grip your index, ring, and pinky finger's HELLA hard with your thumb. So your middle finger is way in the air, flying a solo mission; with no wingman at all. You know what I'm talking about. The finger the chess club gives you, because they have no experience giving the finger; and their hands just don't work that way. So yeah, this old fucker gives me the ugly finger. THEN... he says (I'm guessing because i'm reading his lips at this point) "It's a fucking crosswalk!", as I pass slowly by.

Now before I go any further. Let me say that I am a really nice guy. All things considered, I tend to be pretty observant of feelings (albeit not always sympathetic to them), and I respect people. Especially old people. I even let old people fuck up for free, because the chances are, they shot some Nazi that allowed me to be here today, or rivetted the gun that the other geezer used to shoot the Nazi that allowed me to be here today. Trust me, I appreciate it. Now I don't want this little rant to drag out, so I'll get right to the point: I stopped the car. All the respect in the world isn't going to stop me from flipping out on this guy. SKIRRRRT! Stop the Mule in the middle of the street. Open the door, step out and say "What's the problem?". He says "This is a fucking cross-walk! I'm a pedestrian! I have the right of way!!!" And damnit, to an extent, he's right. But not that right. So I say: "Yeah but you have to be in the fucking cross-walk to get the right of way. You can't be all the way against that building on the sidewalk, flipping me off and expect me to stop! Look it up! You know you haven't been to the DMV in 40 years anyway!" Bam. Slam the door, and smash off. Fuck that. Like I said, I'm all for respecting elders, but don't go throwing your age around. I'll show you what's up, and whoop grandpa's ass if necessary.

I realized the first time I retold this story how fucked up it seems on my part. But really, I gave that dude a shot, and he tried to pull rank. So, I had to let him know how I roll. Basically, I'm not to be fucked with. Period. Which brings me to my next story.

Not a week later, I'm mobbing up to my other job place, on a 2 lane freeway. Typically, trucks and old people drive in the right lane, at the speed limit (65) or less, and everyone else drives in the left lane to pass. I, typically do 70-75mph, because the Mule isn't fast. This is typically fast enough for the left lane, and if someone mashes up behind me, I move over at the first opportunity to let them continue on their way. That is, unless you tail-gate me. If you tail-gate, then I stay right where I'm at, and let you do all the hard work of moving over a lane to go around me. Yeah, if you want to be an asshole, you do the work. Bitch. Sure enough, after a while, this van comes up behind me, and is RIDING my ass. I mean like... ALL the way on my ass. He didn't pass right away because a nice 18-Wheeler was to our right. So I give this dude the benefit of the doubt and continue at 70mph until we pass the truck. I'm thinking the van behind, will just go around me. He doesn't. He's got plenty of open space to go around, but he's trying to make a point that I'm going too slow in the fast lane. Well, let me tell you who teaches me lessons in life: my mom. That's it. Certainly not this mother fucker.

I'm rapidly approaching another truck on the right, and he's still behind me, so I let got of the gas right next to the truck, and just ride there. He is still all over my ass, but now he's really stuck. I'm holding up hella traffic; not giving a shit. I turn around and look out my back window, directly to his face. It's blatantly obvious that I'm upset that he's tail-gating, but he holds, and doesn't back off. At this point I'm mouthing obscenities. All the while, slowing down. I was doing 50mph when we finally passed the truck on the right, and I knew at this point, he'd try to go around me. So i'm watching my mirror. As soon as I see the weight on the van shift left, as he pulls right, I stand on it, and take off. Right up to the 3rd truck, and he gets stuck, and gets behind me again. Yes. I am the man. This guy is so pissed at this point, he's seeing red. I, on the otherhand, am cracking myself all the way up. Finally, we pass the 3rd truck, and he moves to go around me again. I've made my point, so I let him. Nobody, and I mean NO-FUCKING-BODY teaches mother fucking me a lesson like that on the open road. I will rip your eyes out, and shove them up your ass so you can have a great view as a kick your ass all over the place. Dumb mother fucker.

He pulls up on side of me, and makes a motion for me to roll down my window. So what does your boy Paul do? I give that faggot the finger. The ugly finger. BAM! All in your face mother fucker. Now what?! He obviously is not aware of who I am, so he speeds up, and cuts me off hard. I mean I was on the shoulder, because he would have hit me otherwise. I deftly tap the brake, and tuck in behind him because I have the driving skills of Mario Andretti, and that's just how I do.

Now you might be saying "OH SNAP! In your face Syber!". Touché. He got me back pretty good. But I've got an ace up my sleeve. BAM! Whip out the phone.

Yes folks. I narked. I narked HARD. And I love it. I laughed all the way to work. And if I have it my way, that asshole will get fired. That would be fucking sweet. All in his face. That'll teach that mother fucker to fuck with me. Normally, I wouldn't support narking. But in this case, it was not only an idea, it was THE idea.

The moral of the story is, I am awesome. For 3 reasons. The first reason is the first story I told. The second reason is the second story I told. The third reason is that everyone knows when you're doing something in life, you try it, and whoever wins 2 out of 3, wins everything. So really... I won 2 out of 3 situations. In fact, 2 out of 3 IN A ROW. In your face life. I kicked your ass. And TECHNICALLY, telling it makes the third reason. So really, I played rock-paper-scissors with Life, and won back to back. THEN, I played the 3rd round even though I didn't have to, and won that anyway. I'm really not sure how I could be any cooler. That being said, hot ass girls feel free email pictures of yourself here.

Originally posted 11/12/2003 by Syber