Just another Collab-creation!!

Hello all!

I've heard disquieting rumours* that some people are not content with starting at the wonderful Avril Levigne forever. To placate those dying for a blog update, I present to you the first (of many?) collaborations between our blog, and that wonderful satchel of satire and wit known as Joel's blog! I know that Keith and I have always been a fan of "You Better Believe It" and now is one of those tangible ways in which we express our affection. So without further ado, I present to you a blog FROM Joel, ON our blog. It's mindblowing, right?!

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I try to avoid blantant ranting on my own weblog, but every once in a while, duty compels me to go against my beliefs. And when Keith and Andrew asked me to do a guest spot for theirs, I had to man up, strap on a pair, and get mah RANT on, mutha truckas.

So in the spirit of fighting back, here we go, and just remember the number one rule about reading an article from Poppa Joely: YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT! Ha! Get it? Because that is the name of my weblog. It's the title, and I was using it as a tag...line... ha... okay.

Semi trucks are great. That is, they are great if you like enormous, awkward, lumbering box-things that cannot make a turn, veer into your lane around a curve, spray jets of water at your windshield, blinding you when it rains, and could literally roll over your Satneovalier (or in my case a 1995 Pontiac Grand Am with a leaky heater core) and not even think twice about it—or even realize it! So yes, semi trucks are wonderful, if you are into that sort of thing.

Personally, I am not. Now, we have all seen the slogan, “Without trucks, America stops.” Of course you have probably never seen this slogan anywhere else than on a sticker on the back of a semi truck itself. I take issue with the slogan, myself. I prefer this version: “Without trucks, America doesn’t have to awkwardly back up to make way and then crash into cars behind and around it.” Please, let me explain.

The other day/week/month/whatev, I was driving a fraternity brother’s pickup truck to the bank in town (not National City—I loath National City). For those of you who are familiar with the G.C.C. area, you know the stop sign down by the police station on the way into town. And you also know that it is a pretty wide intersection. Plenty of room. But you also would probably agree that that is no place for any vehicle bigger than maybe a pickup truck or possibly a hummer. Maybe a tank, even. But seriously, no bigger than a tank, or you’re pushing it. Well, one unfortunate truck driver did not seem to get the memo that semis belong on the highway, not barreling through the narrow streets of small Pennsylvania villages.

Here is what happened: I was stopped at the red octagon, like any law-abiding driver, when, from the right, a huge semi truck comes chugging along. Quickly I realize that the driver intends to make a left turn. No problem, I thought, he wouldn’t even attempt that turn if he didn’t know he could make it with me sitting here. Wrong! Without so much as slowing down, this truck starts going at it. Um, dude, I said nervously. Dude, what are you doing… I’m sitting right here…. No dice, the driver must not have noticed my worried expression—or my fifteen hundred pound bright red and purple vehicle either. Understandable how he could miss that (?!). I realized quickly that I was going to have to back up fast or literally get run over.

I started to drive in reverse slowly, because there was another pickup right behind me, also stopped. He began backing up, and I sped up. I looked back the the front, and this truck was seriously inches from hitting me. At this point, it was either bump the guy behind me or get rolled over by an eighteen-wheeler. I hit the gas. Skreeeee—THUMP!!! That is what it sounds like to narrowly avoid death by semi truck. Flustered, embarrassed, and breathing heavily, I got out of Dave’s truck and walked over to survey the damage. The other driver was really nice about it. After we agreed that there was no harm done, we got in our trucks and continued our day. But the fact that there was “no harm done” is not the point here. The point is that semi trucks are rude, too big, clumsy, and inconsiderate. Their drivers seem to have concern neither for other people, nor human life in general. This is not the first time something like this has happened!

So, you get my point. I have long said that semi trucks are like fat guys in a crowd. Think about the metaphor, you’ll see what I mean. And you will agree, or I am going to get in a big rig right now and run over your house.

Let us stop the madness now, before it’s too late and people start to die. Horrible, grisly, semi truck-related deaths.

Obligatory disclaimer: I was talking to my dad about how I hated semis at a baseball game the other day, and he informed me that the man standing behind me was a truck driver. Of course, I felt like a huge chomp. So let me just say that I’m sure not all trucks are bad. I am sure there are many drivers out there who are courteous, kind, and considerate. To those men and women I would like to say, WHERE THE HECK HAVE YOU BEEN! PLEASE START DRIVING ON I-80 LIKE RIGHT NOW! BECAUSE YOU SURE AS HECK HAVEN’T BEEN THERE THE LAST FOUR YEARS OF MY LIFE!!!!1!11

Thank you.

fin

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*(British spelling!!!)