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| Coming Soon From Fischer Price: Baby's First Driver's License |
| License and registration, please. |
I’m always hearing jackasses prattling on about how “our children are our greatest natural
resource.” Thing is, I agree. This is the first in a series of occasional articles about how we
can better utilize that resource.
One of the constants of any state’s legislature, besides monotonous discussion, pointless
bickering and political grandstanding, is debate about whether or not to raise the driving age.
Personally, I don’t think raising the driving age will make our nation’s roads any safer. In fact, I
propose we do something even more radical than the Tyrannosaurus Rocks! T-shirt I had in
second grade: lower the driving age. To eight months.
Now, before you get your knickers in a bunch, think about it. Picture yourself on one of those
winding country roads that you’d probably never actually drive on for any reason, late at night.
Rain’s pouring, wind’s blowing, shit is getting crazy. Suddenly, you see a pair of headlights
bearing down on you. Now, pop quiz, hot shot, who would you rather have behind the wheel
of that car: a baby or an octogenarian?
If you said the old person, congratulations, you’re dead and probably buried in an unmarked
grave in Potter’s Field because no one gives enough of a shit about you to claim your body.
Don’t you wish you’d picked the baby?
Babies can drive way better than old people. This is a well known fact in the scientific
community (which in my neighborhood consists of two bums wearing dirty lab coats who hang
around outside the 7-11 and masturbate). But if you don’t believe me, just ask young Adrian
Cole. Adrian is the precocious youth who drove his crack-whore* of a mother’s car to the
video store at two in the morning, with little collateral damage and no casualties. Granted, he
loses points for not knowing that the video store closed at twelve, but the point is HE GOT
THERE SAFELY. That’s more than I can say for 90-year old Howard Luckenbill (henceforth
referred to as “Ole Lucky”), who wrecked the shit of nine, count ‘em, NINE people while
attempting to attend a funeral. When asked what happened, he blamed it on his new shoes. If
I kick some old guy in the face, no one’s going to believe the shoes made me do it. Attention
Ole Lucky: it’s not the new Top-siders, it’s the fact that you CAN’T DRIVE FOR SHIT. Time to
start taking the Fast-Tran.
The scary thing is, Ole Lucky is not alone. Every few weeks, some senior citizen forgets which
pedal makes the car go and which makes the car stop and sends someone (who is inevitably
much younger) to the emergency room. Now, go into your local daycare center (if you’re still
allowed to, that is) and ask any of the kids, even the ones who’ve glued their nostrils shut,
which pedal makes the car go vroom and which one makes it stop entirely. I guarantee that at
least 90% will give you the correct answer, and the other 10% will say something about liking
horsies. But that’s not a big deal. A few jolts from my taser and they’ll get their shit right.
The facts don’t lie. Every time a baby prematurely gets behind the wheel of a car, everything’s
okay. But whenever an old person gets behind the wheel, someone is going to the hospital or
possibly the morgue. Someone needs to do something about this ASAP. And that someone is
me.
That’s right, you all know I’m not the kind of guy who goes around bitching about things and
then doesn’t offer solutions. Well, I’ve put a lot of thought into this problem and have come up
with a real humdinger of a fix. Listen: babies can drive better than old people. There are more
babies than we know what to do with (otherwise, orphanages would be a thing of the past and
politicians would spend less time bitching about abortion and more time bitching about other
shit). Why shut them up in group homes or abort them when we could put them to use?
I propose that everyone over the age of sixty be given a baby to drive them around. That way,
unwanted babies will have homes and the rest of us will be safe from old motorists. Maybe in
a few years, if this thing takes off, we’ll get to the point where there are more old people than
unwanted babies. Then we’ll have to make more babies. That’s where I come in. Surly Taco
Baby Supply, Inc. will mass-produce infant chaffeurs. I feel like I’m qualified to sire legions of
drivers because I’ve only gotten one ticket in my entire lifetime, and that was back in 2000 (for
disregarding a highway sign, no less. Lame). Plus, I can drive faster than most people I
know. Now, all I need is some hot mamas to bear the fruit of my loins. If you’re between the
ages of 18-25 and were BORN a woman, email me your resume, some color photos, and a
pair of lightly worn panties. Together, we can help make our nation’s roads safer for our
children, which is a good idea since they’ll be the ones who are driving.
*Alleged
resource.” Thing is, I agree. This is the first in a series of occasional articles about how we
can better utilize that resource.
One of the constants of any state’s legislature, besides monotonous discussion, pointless
bickering and political grandstanding, is debate about whether or not to raise the driving age.
Personally, I don’t think raising the driving age will make our nation’s roads any safer. In fact, I
propose we do something even more radical than the Tyrannosaurus Rocks! T-shirt I had in
second grade: lower the driving age. To eight months.
Now, before you get your knickers in a bunch, think about it. Picture yourself on one of those
winding country roads that you’d probably never actually drive on for any reason, late at night.
Rain’s pouring, wind’s blowing, shit is getting crazy. Suddenly, you see a pair of headlights
bearing down on you. Now, pop quiz, hot shot, who would you rather have behind the wheel
of that car: a baby or an octogenarian?
If you said the old person, congratulations, you’re dead and probably buried in an unmarked
grave in Potter’s Field because no one gives enough of a shit about you to claim your body.
Don’t you wish you’d picked the baby?
Babies can drive way better than old people. This is a well known fact in the scientific
community (which in my neighborhood consists of two bums wearing dirty lab coats who hang
around outside the 7-11 and masturbate). But if you don’t believe me, just ask young Adrian
Cole. Adrian is the precocious youth who drove his crack-whore* of a mother’s car to the
video store at two in the morning, with little collateral damage and no casualties. Granted, he
loses points for not knowing that the video store closed at twelve, but the point is HE GOT
THERE SAFELY. That’s more than I can say for 90-year old Howard Luckenbill (henceforth
referred to as “Ole Lucky”), who wrecked the shit of nine, count ‘em, NINE people while
attempting to attend a funeral. When asked what happened, he blamed it on his new shoes. If
I kick some old guy in the face, no one’s going to believe the shoes made me do it. Attention
Ole Lucky: it’s not the new Top-siders, it’s the fact that you CAN’T DRIVE FOR SHIT. Time to
start taking the Fast-Tran.
The scary thing is, Ole Lucky is not alone. Every few weeks, some senior citizen forgets which
pedal makes the car go and which makes the car stop and sends someone (who is inevitably
much younger) to the emergency room. Now, go into your local daycare center (if you’re still
allowed to, that is) and ask any of the kids, even the ones who’ve glued their nostrils shut,
which pedal makes the car go vroom and which one makes it stop entirely. I guarantee that at
least 90% will give you the correct answer, and the other 10% will say something about liking
horsies. But that’s not a big deal. A few jolts from my taser and they’ll get their shit right.
The facts don’t lie. Every time a baby prematurely gets behind the wheel of a car, everything’s
okay. But whenever an old person gets behind the wheel, someone is going to the hospital or
possibly the morgue. Someone needs to do something about this ASAP. And that someone is
me.
That’s right, you all know I’m not the kind of guy who goes around bitching about things and
then doesn’t offer solutions. Well, I’ve put a lot of thought into this problem and have come up
with a real humdinger of a fix. Listen: babies can drive better than old people. There are more
babies than we know what to do with (otherwise, orphanages would be a thing of the past and
politicians would spend less time bitching about abortion and more time bitching about other
shit). Why shut them up in group homes or abort them when we could put them to use?
I propose that everyone over the age of sixty be given a baby to drive them around. That way,
unwanted babies will have homes and the rest of us will be safe from old motorists. Maybe in
a few years, if this thing takes off, we’ll get to the point where there are more old people than
unwanted babies. Then we’ll have to make more babies. That’s where I come in. Surly Taco
Baby Supply, Inc. will mass-produce infant chaffeurs. I feel like I’m qualified to sire legions of
drivers because I’ve only gotten one ticket in my entire lifetime, and that was back in 2000 (for
disregarding a highway sign, no less. Lame). Plus, I can drive faster than most people I
know. Now, all I need is some hot mamas to bear the fruit of my loins. If you’re between the
ages of 18-25 and were BORN a woman, email me your resume, some color photos, and a
pair of lightly worn panties. Together, we can help make our nation’s roads safer for our
children, which is a good idea since they’ll be the ones who are driving.
*Alleged
Comments? Email me at JimiChanga@SurlyTaco.com
Feel slightly aroused? Then head back to Salsa