The Car Horn: Useful Driving Tool or Harbinger of Death?

Is there a more startling sound than the sustained wail of the average car horn? The only two things I could possibly think of would be a heavy book being dropped in a large, quiet room or Maury Povich telling me that I am the father. But while I understand the need for the urgent nature of the car horn's rebellious yell, it's also in the hand of irrational, quick-tempered idiots.

All Aboard the Douchebag Express

Never before have the words "change at Jamaica" been so musical to my ears.

The Long Island Railroad is a mixed-blessing. On one hand, it serves as a quick and convenient mode of transportation for New York City outings eliminating the hassle of having to take your car and limiting your alcohol intake as a result. On the flip side, there are usually drunker, louder people coming home with you. I'm sure there's a graph somewhere outlining the "Post-Midnight Budweiser Theorum" that states for every quiet drunk who's only interested in passing out on the ride home, there's an oppositely obnoxious guy cracking the same bad joke loudly so that some commuter 30 rows down can pay him undeserved attention.

Highway to Cleveland

Early last month, my girlfriend and I took that long overdue vacation we've been planning since the dawn of interstate travel (give or take a couple of industrial revolutions). Money was tight and Italy had the audacity to separate themselves from us with this big body of water. So we figured Cleveland was the answer.