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Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Ol’ Robbo hates commuting during Easter Week, especially when it coincides with the cherry blossoms coming out.  All those tourons, both driving around lost and clogging up crosswalks at the intersections?  Grrrr.  It usually takes me about fifteen or twenty minutes to get to the river from my office.  Today it took nearly an hour (with another half hour to go from the other end of the bridge to the Port Swiller garage).  Move along.

Know what else I hate? Those people who surreptitiously use their iThingies while driving by holding them flat against the bottoms of their steering wheels.  (It’s illegal here and they try to fool the cops that way.)  You can always tell who they are – the ones who float three or four lengths back from the car in front even in the slowest traffic, or sit for five or ten seconds in place when everyone else has moved on.  This plays absolute merry hell with the poor shlub behind who risks getting caught in “the box” when the lights change.  Cut it out.

Finally, may I speak to those (mostly) middle-aged men driving Porsches?  Guy, if you’re going to plonk $60K (or whatever it is) on a fancy sports car, could you at least drive it like one instead of piddling about?  Otherwise, what the heck is the point?  And don’t give me any of this fear-my-baby-will-get-in-an-accident foo-fah.  You’re far more likely to cause one with your pokey hesitation than you are putting the thing to its intended use.  Man up.

Oh, and with spring (finally, kinda, almost) here, of course the swarms of cyclists are increasing, too.  I have nothing to say to them except pray you don’t get in front of me.  Ramming SPEED!

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