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This may or may not be a filthy lie, but bear with me while I go with it.
Screaming expletives all day gets old, even for me. There’s only so many times you can yell the eff word before it loses effectiveness. And sometimes you’re just so scared or angry words don’t come out right, like when the guy in the red pickup tried to kill us by screaming blindly down the breakdown lane at 70 mph while the rest of the universe was stopped for an accident. He was on us and blowing the passenger side door off before I realized what was happening, and my automatic yell kicked in before I could gather my expletives properly.
“Captain, we’ve spotted a jerkoid directly ahead.”
“What the doodle-hell was that?? Did you see that fracking bag of snot? What a jerkoid!”
And that day, the word jerkoid was created by combining jerk and asteroid, which was safely the speed the jerk in the red truck was traveling when he tried to kill us by using the breakdown lane as his own special method of personal conveyance. (Can you tell I’m bothered by diptards who use the breakdown lane for anything other than breaking down? It’s one of my personal peeves, and one of those things that makes me so angry, I sincerely pray I never see the people who do it again, especially parked at a truck stop, because I don’t think I would be able to keep myself from at least denting their vehicle a little with a ball peen hammer, and possibly their heads, if they happen to fall down and get in the way.)
“Bumblebunny” is another word created in the Parker universe, and stems directly from the good-looking college girls who drive tiny cars, like Volkswagen Beetles, at speeds that vary according to how hard they’re twerking to Drake at the moment. They’re often spotted on I-75 through South Georgia and seem to proliferate during Spring Break. Their movements through traffic can include and are not limited to the “look Ma, no hands drift,” where answering the phone and finding her favorite lip gloss is far more important than maintaining a lane at 70 mph. Occasionally, the “ohmygod there’s a sale at the Uggs store whip” is displayed, and it involves hitting an exit from the hammer lane across at least two, but not limited to six, lanes of traffic.
Fortunately, bumblebunnies are easily identified. We watched one pinball her way through traffic around 285 in Atlanta, which consequently has an entire genre of profanity set aside for the poor souls who have to drive it on a regular basis. I had her pegged before she made her first drift. The sparkly cell phone case caught my eye as she was merging into traffic and I alerted George immediately.
“She’s going to do something stupid. Watch her.”
“Baby, we’re on 285 around Atlanta, everyone here is doing something stupid, including us, for being here in the first place.”
You really can’t argue with sage wisdom like that, but ten seconds later, when he was yelling, “Whoawawhoa!” as she cut off a log truck that was flat out rolling, another new verbal cue had been created.
A whowawhoa is the combination of whoa and watch it and describes a close call. For example, when a “bumblebunny” forces the entire right lane of traffic to become “jerkoids” to avoid making her a hood ornament.
So, since it’s taken about 98 minutes for me to write this, and we’ve come up with at least three new words, I’d say that once again, truckers are ahead of the language game. Go truckers!
from Overdrive http://ift.tt/1NEQr3G
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