The Black Arts of Solipsism, or “Why Do I Keep Bumping Into Shit and Getting Flipped Off by Joggers,” or “Why Can I Only Breathe Through My Mouth,” or “Why it’s My Fault that Brian B. Just Ran Me Over.”

sol·ip·sism, noun

1. Philosophy. The theory that only the self exists, or can be proved to exist.

2. Extreme preoccupation with and indulgence of one's feelings, desires, etc.; egoistic self-absorption.

DC drivers and pedestrians are apparently ardent followers of the black arts of solipsism. In fact, I don’t know who I hate more, and frankly, they can all go choke on a gigantic engorged diseased walrus cock for all I care. Solipsism is every bit as fundamentally narcissistic and vain as its local practitioners, the majority of whom lack self-awareness to the degree that they’d be startled by their own reflection were it not already their second favorite person in the whole world. I can honestly say that I’ve almost been run over by cars, tripped, tackled or forced to violently circumvent aimless brain-dead pedestrians (in some cases unsuccessfully) about 150 times in the past 18 months, and that’s a conservative figure. The bottom line is this: people just don’t think it’s necessary to pay attention to where they’re going or to be aware of the world around them even in the most basic sense. Apparently these folks believe that they’re the only souls walking this big blue marble we call Earth. It is therefore my distinct pleasure to de-program these dim-witted dolts. Where’s my megaphone? Ah, alright, there it is. “Calling all fucktards.” “Come in, fucktards.” Great! Now that you’re all here, put down those bags of paint chips you’ve been snacking on and listen up.

First of all, if you're stupid enough to go jogging while wearing headphones with your shitty Coldplay blasting, then you're too stupid to realize that it's your fault when I run you over because you weren't paying attention. Have you not seen the way people drive around here? Do you think that your fat ass is the fastest in DC which justifies you to run right down the center of the sidewalk with no expectation of being passed? If I yell at you to get out of the way and you can't hear me, and if I can't get around you, then you know what, buddy? I'm going over you, and it will be your fault when your face goes sliding across the asphalt. Speaking of which, Coldplay? Really??? They sucked the day before they became a band.

If you're stupid enough to walk shoulder to shoulder down the sidewalk while I'm out jogging, then you're stupid enough to make me reinforce my theory that you think that you and your friends are the only people alive. I mean, why would anyone be out jogging in DC? It's not like 600,000 residents plus 250,000 visitors are here at any given time or anything. I'm obviously not going to run into traffic on my left to pass you, you self-absorbed, undeserving, sense of entitlement having idiots, and there's a fence on my right, so I guess I'm just going to have to run you assholes over because you weren't paying attention.

If I see you painting your fingernails while driving one more time, I'm going to pull you out of your car by your ear lobe, strip you down, hog tie you and leave you in the street because you weren't paying attention. Then I'm going to snatch your fingernail polish because Zoya LA Pops with iridescent glitter and a slight green flash goes great with my skin tone and it's quite lovely, really. 

By the way, I know something you don’t: turn signals come standard on your piece of shit Kia. That means use 'em, you paste eaters! The next time I'm forced to wait at an intersection thinking you're going straight because your left turn signal isn't on, only to see you make a left turn anyway despite the fact that I could have gone 10 seconds ago had you not been so goddamn lazy, I'm going to track you down, rip out your epiglottis, urinate on your grandmother and bury you alive because you weren’t paying attention. And fuck you, I know that was a run-on sentence, douche nozzle!

Hey, do you see that stop sign in front of those two parallel white lines? It’s called a crosswalk, and they’re often found at intersections. Repeat after me: “in-ter-sec-tions.” I realize that it’s difficult for you to pronounce polysyllabic words, but even your dumb ass can conceptualize this simple concept. We’ve already established that you think there was some sort of cataclysmic event which wiped out all of mankind except for you, but please humor me and stop your car anyway. I weigh 160 lbs soaking wet after eating a four egg omelet at Waffle House, and your piece of junk, rusted out "I'm gonna die a virgin" Isuzu weighs two tons. Trust me, stopping will prevent you from killing innocent joggers at crosswalks, and let’s face it: your bony ass is way too delicate to survive any significant prison time. I don’t care if you’re too poor to pay attention! Get a toxic high interest attention loan and pay it!!

And folks, why are you still driving while talking on your phones, you jack-asses? Not only is it selfish, stupid, illegal and dangerous, there's nothing going on in your useless lives that is so important that it can't wait until you get back to the trailer park. I mean, it's fucking 2012 already! Find Doc Brown, install the flux capacitor, speed up to 88 mph and get the fuck out of 1985, you imbeciles! If I see you do this again I'm going to ram your piece of shit Camaro, burn all your Merle Haggard 8 track cassettes and take a piss on your Smokey and the Bandit posters, Jethro!

Too bad you weren’t paying attention, but at least there’s one less solipsist to worry about.