Where did all these wankstas come from? They come out in flocks, I swear. Curses on those wankstas. Like the wanksta in the red Jag x-type who though he was hot stuff Mr. Mario Andretti on the 405 S Friday when we went to Chris and Tricia's praise and worship thing. He must have been thinking "even though I have the bottom of the barrell Jag none of these other drivers can take my wanksta title... fo life!!" GP gave chase. We weaved through almost 10 miles of traffic at 90 mph and this wanksta didn't signal once. Son of a mother. I wonder if his mother knows he drives like that. Finally we got next to him and stuck it to him good. Thanks to the slow driver in who-would-have-guessed--- the slow lane -- GP boxed him in. Just for kicks, Geeps braked a little to trap him. And the red Jag came back with a vengeance. He really had to push it to catch up to us, but came up on our left side. He even had the presence of mind to turn his head to us as he proceeded to cut us off... and stomp on the brakes. Damn, he coulda rolled right over that wanksta...

Driving downt he 91 W toward Irvine, I saw a few wanksta pretenders, none of them graduated yet. Still, horrible drivers though. Speed up to slow down, then race to fill a gap in traffic, and then go slow in the little curves. It all turns into a sea of red.

I guess it was better than sitting at home, sweating even with the window open, hoping to gather enough energy to make it past my parents and back to the coastal breezes of Irvine. I had planned to leave around 3, but 3 turned to 7:30. My mom is always rushing to do something, but she sure has a knack for stalling me when I feel like doing something. My parents say more to me in the 5 minutes before I leave the house than they do the whole rest of the time I'm home. My brother doesn't even say hi/goodbye to me when I visit. We have such strange family dynamics.