Blogcritics Author: Brian Schleper

Clemens vs. Congress

Brian Schleper — Thu, 28 Feb 2008 20:53:39 EST

Why are we worrying about a role model for millions of kids taking drugs when we could be invading Darfur?
I am here to say to Congress that as an American citizen I really don't care that much about Roger Clemens and whether or not he took performance enhancing substances. If he did, then that's sad for him and sad for baseball. But I assure you that it is no way, shape, or form worthy of Congress' time or effort. Hell, it's not even...

Announcement: Short-content feeds

Phillip Winn — Sun, 26 Aug 2007 12:00:00 EDT

Sunday, August 26, 2007, marks the switch of all Blogcritics.org article feeds from full-content to short-content. This is the result of several converging factors, and is unfortunately a permanent decision (as permanent as any decision can be on the web, that is). We are aware of all of the reasons that this is a Bad Idea, and we are aware that some of you will be quite upset about having to click on something to read the free content, and we're sorry. Unfortunately, despite great effort, full-content feeds are not currently economically viable. Two other factors are involved: full-content feeds have resulted in an unprecedented level of content theft, with BC content appearing on many websites, usually spam sites, without attribution or permission. This duplicate content causes a cascading set of problems, not the least of which is that search engines generally aren't favorable to duplicate content, and don't always guess correctly. Finally, our RSS advertising partner is strongly in favor of short-content feeds. We hope that you'll continue to subscribe to BC via RSS, and when an article grabs your eye, it's only a click away, still free on the BC website. Thank you for your understanding.

Satire: My Hunting Adventure with Tricky Dick

Brian Schleper — Tue, 14 Feb 2006 12:12:54 EST

I had awoken late that brisk January morning to the sound of quail calls outside my bedroom window. I shook off the cobwebs and threw my legs over the side of the bed. A long night of doing shots with Rummy and Condi had left my throat with that distinct taste of bile. I needed a quick drink of water to help it subside. I walked into the bathroom and looked at my sunken eyes in the mirror. "Jesus, I look like hell." I said as I brought the warm water up to my face. I could still hear the quail calls from outside my room getting louder. I walked out of the bathroom and put on my pants. No sooner had I gotten my t-shirt when my bedroom door came crashing open and a large ominous figure leaped in. He blew the quail call again and the piercing sounds reminded my headache to get back to work. As if sensing my discomfort Dick came over and put me into a head lock. He began to give me the most painful noogie of my life. "Aww yea, get out of that boy!" Dick yelled through his maniacal laughter. "If I didn't know any better I would say you don't wanna shoot at anything trapped in a cage today son." I smirked a half smile and he finally let me go. I sat back on the bed and finished getting dressed. Dick continued to jump around my room blowing the quail call over and over. "Hurry up!! Hurry up!! Hurrrrrrrry!!" Dick continued to demand, clearly getting frustrated over my slow start. "The boys are downstairs waiting for your slow ass." I stood up, grabbed my jacket, and followed Dick downstairs. As we walked down the stairs, Dick skipping stairs and whistling the Star Spangled Banner, I could see the regular crew assembled in the foyer. There was Jeb Bush, Bandar Bush, Harry Whittington, and the always outspoken, always annoying Katharine Armstrong. Armstrong owned the Ranch in south Texas and was always happy to tag along to make sure no one caused any trouble. By trouble she meant Dick. Dick was always trying to one up someone. His witty banter was always good for a laugh but it always seemed to be at someone else's expense. Katharine went to fetch the dogs as we packed up the last of our gear. Personally I never understood why we took dogs onto the ranch grounds since we were just walking over to shoot some quail that were raised in a cage. How could they get away? I could hear Jeb and Dick arguing about some policy that no one really cared about. "Blah you are a pussy!" Dick screamed at Jeb. "How can you be from your father's loins?" Jeb's faced began to turn red. His anger at Dick poking fun at his shallow gene pool was always cause for some fight. We were getting ready to leave when Bandar dropped to his knees, on the bright rug he always carried with him, and began to pray. Dick was not happy with that at all. He kicked some dirt towards Bandar. You could hear Harry giggling in the background. Bandar ignored Dick's insults and finished his prayer. "I need to make sure I have extra protection when there's a Dick like you around," Bandar said. Before Dick could get his comeback together Katharine has returned with the dogs. "Let's goooooo!" Dick exclaimed as he turned around and started to run into the brush. I watched as he ran about a hundred yards in front of us. You could see him for a mile with his bright orange Halliburton hunting outfit. Most of the walk through the woods was boring and there wasn't much chit-chat at all. Jeb didn't really like hunting. He just went with us to impress Dick. Everyone seemed to need to impress Dick. Everyone of course but me. See I didn't really like Dick. He was, for lack of a better word, a dick. Maybe it was the way he treated his friends. Maybe it was the way he treated the planet. Whatever it was he just rubbed me wrong. We ended up splitting up a little in search of the elusive quail cages. I could hear Dick blowing that damn quail call through the entire forest. Then I heard the gun shot. I was walking with Jeb and Bandar when the shot rang out. "Oh goody," Bandar said as he began to trot over to where the sound came from. He ran like a bow legged girl. It was at that time that I noticed the dogs barking loudly and heard Katharine shout for help. I started to run with Jeb in close pursuit. Was it me or was Jeb whimpering? I turned back to look and tripped over a pile of branches. I came down hard on my knee and was almost trampled to death by Jeb. He was babbling something I couldn't make out. Where the hell was he going? "Um, Jeb, hello?" I said as he continued towards the rest of the party. What the fuck is going on, I wondered as I pulled myself up. "No seriously, I am OK, thank you!" I proclaimed as I began to run towards them. I began to grow concerned since we hadn't gotten to the cages yet. What the hell was he shooting at? As I stumbled into the clearing I saw Dick and Jeb standing over Harry's body. There was still steam rising from the wounds and from the barrel of Dick's gun. Harry had clearly been sprayed by birdshot pellets and was in a considerable amount of pain. The one side of his face looked like it had been filled with tiny steaming black holes. "What do we do now," Jeb shouted at Dick "You shot him in the face, you shot a 78-year-old man dead in the face." Dick slapped Jeb forcefully and Jeb let out a low feminine cry. "Is he dead", Bandar inquired. "What will we do with the body?"The body??? What the hell was going on? It was clear that this was no accident. There wasn't a quail for a mile around. And that smile on Dick's face, it made me uneasy. "It's an accident, I didn't know he was there." Dick explained. "I saw the whole thing," Katharine said as she rushed into the middle of the group. She grabbed an imaginary microphone and said "A bird flew up, the vice president followed it through around to his right and shot, and unfortunately, unbeknownst to anybody, Harry was there and he got peppered pretty good with a spray of 28-gauge pellets." A thought suddenly occurred to me. Peppered? He got seasoned? What did Harry do to Dick? And why did Katharine just say that like she was addressing the media? My heart began to beat faster as the situation began to show its true face. Almost as if he smelled my fear Dick looked at me with a sinister glare. "Everything all right Brian?" he asked as he stood up over his trophy. Harry's eyes we're starting to glaze over a little. Bandar was talking on the phone to someone in a language that all my years at Mercer County College couldn't help me decipher, and I could only hope he was calling for help. Dick came into my personal space and got close enough so I could smell the evil being excreted from his pores. A bead of sweat formed on my brow and he wiped it off with his finger. He put it into his mouth and sucked the sweat off. His lips curled and I knew that this day would haunt me forever. Jeb had fallen to the ground and was holding his knees to his chest. I thought I heard him call his mommy and say a prayer. Dick, standing about an inch from me, looked me dead in the eye and said, "He's going to be all right, it's just a flesh wound." And almost like clockwork I said, "He's going to be all right, it's just a flesh wound." Dick then said, "These aren't the droids you are looking for." I repeated him again like a man with no control over his own voice. I was scared for the first time in my life. What was going to happen to me, and for that matter what the hell was going to happen to poor Harry? He lay there bleeding out of his chest, face, and arm. Delusion had begun to take over and he was mumbling something about filibustering. Dick walked back over towards his prey and kicked him lightly to make sure he was still alive. Bandar put out his prayer rug and together he and Jeb placed the wounded Harry into it. Harry was crying out as they rolled him up in the rug. I was sure that they were going to drop him into the bog never to be seen or heard from again. With that thought fresh in my mind, it occurred to me. What the hell is going to happen to me? Before I could form another rational thought, Dick's Hummer came barreling through the trees and came to a grinding halt in front of the party. Dirt and twigs we're flying out from under the tires literally peppering the entire party with dust. George Dubbua jumped out of the monster truck, his American flag bandana briskly flowing in the wind, and slammed an American flag into the ground at his feet. His camouflage pants looking like they had just come out of the package were a perfect compliment to his bare chest and bullet belt he wore over his shoulder. "Here I am gentlemen, to bring freedom and democracy to this impoverished land. Heh heh." "Shut up, George," Dick exclaimed. "Pick him up and put him into the back." The lackeys did as they were told and all packed into the Hummer. No one talked on that long ride back to the house. I still didn't know what was going to happen but was relieved to see an ambulance waiting outside the house. We put poor Harry on the stretcher and they took him away. We all entered the house, not speaking a word, and went our separate ways. I showered, unable to get the Dick stench off of myself, and got dressed. I descended the stairs to see George running around with two model fighter planes playing WW3. "Broooom Vrooooom, ka-ka-ka bang booooom," he gleefully shouted. George stopped when he saw me on the stairs. I had my bags packed and was hoping to make some quick goodbyes and then head out the door. George reminded me about the importance of national security, and how some things were better left to the PR machine to handle. Dick had already left but had given George a note for me. It read... Dear Brian, What a fun time we had today playing squash in the yard. You are quite an accomplished player and have a great future in the game. Sometimes we write the rules as we go along in this game, cause after all we are Americans. Americans who have a duty to better the country. Don't you think? I'll see you soon, as I am sure you already know, so take care. Sincerely your digital ruler, Dicky"Mission Accomplished" George proclaimed as I crumbled up the note. He began to march in place. He saluted me and then went back to playing with his model airplanes. I opened the door and my car was waiting for me out front. I got in and looked back at the house. I don't know if I will ever be back here, but I will never forget it. I turned the key and heard a whoosh of air underneath my seat. Damn! I should've checked it out before I got in...

Super Bowl XS

Brian Schleper — Tue, 7 Feb 2006 11:47:12 EST

(Thats extra small for all you XL fans.)Mike Holmgren and Paul Allen must be pretty upset this morning. As the sun rises on the Pacific Northwest, so does the first day of healing from that super loss begin. I am sure that Mike, Paul, and most of the Seattle team will be watching film on one of the worst Super Bowls in the history of the NFL. This game as much as any in the history of the game could be fuel for the conspiracy theory nuts. Never have I seen a game that looked more fixed than this one. Blown calls, bad penalty flags, and non calls were glaringly obvious throughout the entire game. It seemed like the NFL and the refs wanted to give the game to the Steelers. I am neither a Seattle fan nor a Pittsburgh fan. I am, unfortunately this season, a Philadelphia fan. So understand that the outcome of the game meant little to me. I am a fan of football and all I wanted was a good game to watch. Here is my take on the game. If anyone thinks that Darrell Jackson pass interfered on that first Seahawks touchdown you are nuts. He had already turned his body. Yes he did touch the guy. But he had put his hand out and there was no push off or momentum changing contact. There was way more contact all day long. That penalty led to a Seattle field goal instead of a touchdown. You can debate about the first Steelers touchdown when Big Ben took it in himself. It was so close you have to go with what the guy saw on the field. I think it if was called the other way it would have been just as scrutinized as giving him the touchdown was. Joey Porter definitely got into the head of Jerramy Stevens. He called you soft, Jerramy. And you went out and proved him right with that multi-drop game. You even dropped a sure touchdown that would have put your team up. At that point you've got to pull the guy. I mean, his head just wasn't in the game. You could have had the league MVP in the game instead of on the sideline when you're down in the Super Bowl. Not that Joey had much of a game either, I think I really only saw him in on one good play. A bad flag that helped set up the Steelers with good field position was the low block called on Matt Hasselbeck after he threw an interception. He tackled the guy that intercepted him. That's not a block -- that's a tackle. Did he go through another Steeler to make the tackle? I think it's a nonsense call no matter how you look at it. If I was a coach and my QB came and made a tackle on the guy who intercepted him I would slap him on the ass and tell him good hustle. In 100 other games the same play would not be called that way. The next Darrell Jackson touchdown could also be argued. He was in bounds at the 1 foot line, the ball crosses over the pylon and then his other foot knocks down the pylon on his way to being out of bounds in the end zone. Now the play should have been reviewed but it was under 2 minutes in the 1st half. I thought if the ball crosses or touches or whatever the pylon then it's a touchdown. Again it could have gone either way but it ended up in the Steelers favor. What was the biggest penalty in the NFL this season? Illegal block in the back on kick returns. How many called yesterday and on whom? How could you forget about your favorite call all season refs? Instead we get a phantom holding call on the Seahawks right after Jerramy Stevens gets them back in the game with a great reception to the one yard line. Outcome: Missed Seattle field goal. Did the NFL get all caught up in Jerome Bettis's homecoming? Even the half time show, a weak concert by the Rolling Stones, and bland commercials made this show boring. The NFL is so concerned with making the game an event that they forget about the game. It's almost like the NFL has lost sight of its audience. You get a little boob flashed during the half time show one year and it's watered down for the rest of eternity. ABC (AKA Ed Sullivan) even put the Stones set on a delay. For who? for what? (Thank you Ricky Waters) Are the Stones (who don't really know anything about American football) going to offend someone with their racy lyrics? I think more people were offended about the lack of connection with the Detroit music heritage. Hey NFL, it's called Motown. Put that in your Rooney Rule and smoke it. I don't know if any of the plays here could have changed the game or if the outcome would have been different. I'm not saying the Steelers didn't make good plays. That fake reverse with Antwaan Randle El was awesome. Even Big Ben's staying behind the line of scrimmage while scrambling and then finding MVP Hines Ward for a long completion was amazing. At the end of the game did you know who the MVP might have been? Hines is the clear choice but it's almost by default. Who else stepped up for them during the whole game? Hines made a good amount of great catches (5 actually) and it made sense to give him the award... and his new 2007 Escalade. I think it makes great sense to give a millionaire a car that the majority of the people watching the game can't afford. The rich get richer... and Hines has another car to add to his arsenal. This game will be a distant memory soon enough I'm sure. Free agency and the draft are coming soon, and for now that's all us Eagles fans have to look forward to. This games mediocre content and horrible officiating brought this years winner a place in the history books. I personally hope that this makes the NFL look at its part time officiating crews and helps them to understand how detrimental to the game it is when you have hacks out there calling the biggest game in sports. But let me give credit where credit is due, so congratulations Pittsburgh, you (and the refs) brought it home for Jerome.

Music Downloading Is Not The End Of The World

Brian Schleper — Wed, 25 Jan 2006 18:02:50 EST

I have for years been a firm supporter of the music industry. Well, I suppose that is only in the sense that I continued to buy CDs from my favorite artists. I have been on the music downloading bandwagon since day one, blowing through such great programs as Napster, Kazaa, Limewire, and more. I stopped impulse buying of CDs before I heard them. That probably cost the music industry an easy $50 a month. I have listened to the industry talk about how all this downloading and file sharing is ruining them. But I am here today to tell them the truth. Downloading doesn't hurt you. Offering a sub-par product does. I am a music whore. I can't get enough music in my life. My CD collection is massive. My MP3 collection is massive. My iPod is maxed out. Nothing is more frustrating then running out and getting the newest CD from your favorite band just to get it home and discover that at best there are two good songs on it. Case in point, the new System of a Down CD, Hypnotize. I am a big fan of SOAD. But this latest CD is a letdown. I think that it might have been a better decision to take the twelve best songs off of their two-CD output this year and just put out one. But no, the money that would be lost on such an endeavor is scary. Like any corporation, the music industry only cares about money. They do not care about what you like. They do not care if they ruin their artists. And most importantly, the industry does not care about you. They care about making you like what they want you to like. It's more about getting you to spend your hard earned money on the newest fart in a can CD from Beyonce than it is on developing quality artists. How many bands with sound-alike names can be shoved down your throat? Nickleback? Nicklecreek? Nickledimepenny? I can't tell one from the other and honestly, I don't want to. So here is what I say to the industry. You want my money, then you need to do one of two things. Make the product worth the $12-$15 you want me to pay for it. Or reduce the price to under $8 and offer a money back guarantee on garbage. There is more quality and talent on independent music labels then anywhere else. But those labels lack the true money and backing to really market their artists correctly. So unless you pay close attention and read underground magazines you are going to miss out. I don't bother to pay attention to reviews of CDs in major music magazines like Rolling Stone simply because their reviewers don't give honest reviews. How can you give five stars to a CD that sounds identical to that of another band? It's a money driven business that we consumers are stuck in the middle of. I always thought that payola was illegal but anyone with some sense can see how backwards the whole industry is. The only way the consumer can feel safe is to hear the music before buying it. For me and most of the people in this country, downloading is the only way to protect ourselves. I am not looking to destroy artists or ruin anyone. I am just trying to spend my money on something worth while. I still buy CDs when I think they are worth it. Places like iTunes and other pay-to-download sites are fine, but their selection is minimal. You can't take someone so immersed in the subculture and try to sell them some watered down version of the real thing. Until then I think I'll be okay. Just don't shut anymore of my sites down!

You Know You're A Pothead...

Brian Schleper — Tue, 24 Jan 2006 20:40:19 EST

Sitting around eating snacks, listening to music, and writing this just for you.You know you've been a Pot Head if... You've ever said 'pack the bowl again.' You think "puff puff pass" or "puff puff give" has a nice ring to it. You can smell it 100 yards away in a concert. You have multiple bottles of Visine in various locations "just in case." You can't believe someone "smoked without you." You know "Wake and Bake" isn't about cooking. You know cigars as "Philly's" and it's a hassle that they come with tobacco inside. You know that if you are desperate you can always find a "nug in your rug." You can make a bong out of a juice bottle, a tube, and duck tape. You have named anything you have ever smoked out of (King Bong, Chibus) You know the difference between "Schwag, Beezers, KB, and Dank" by appearance and smell. "Purple Haze" is much more than a Hendrix song. You know that "Hydro" isn't just a comic book character. You have a "friend" that you only talk to because they always have herb. You have a nickname for it (Herbal Excellence, Big Tom Cruise, Silly Willy Schwage a Dilly). You fully understand why it should be legalized. You hear things in your favorite songs that you never realized were there before. You have "rules" (rule #3 when you say you've had enough, you take one more hit. And then that's enough). You have ever watched a movie then forgot what it was about. You ate a whole pint of ice cream and then followed it up with pretzels, a bowl of cereal, and hot pockets. You can easily quote lines from "Dazed and Confused" or "Half Baked." The inside of your car is always dirty. You have a legitimate argument about why you're not 'addicted.' You belong to the "Find a lighter, pick it up, and all day long you'll have good luck" klepto club. People are looking at me. They know man, they know. You've ever had to abandon your shopping cart in a department store and leave because you were "getting bugged out." Every idea you ever have you need to write down. You forget to write down every idea you ever have. You lived the words to "Sweet Leaf." You begin to explain something to a friend and go on a tirade about something random. Then you forget what it was you were trying to explain in the first place. You are such a vet that you can do "anything" stoned, and do it better. You wish you lived in Canada, Amsterdam, or Nevada. Your idea of an ideal vacation is Amsterdam (They have a lot of culture). You can accurately portray a stoner (and do a fine impression, man). You have a personal preference between Duchies, Spliffs, Blunt, and Joints. You know how to roll. You shed a tear when you see the police burning crops on the news. You buy gum or Altoids by the case. 420 is a holiday. 2 words - Cannabis Culture. You know 10-50 different words to describe ganjah. (Pot, Hemp, Bhang, Marijuana, Joint, Reefer, Dope, Ganja, Smoke, Weed, Herb, Marihuana, Hash, Sensemilla, Green, Greenbud, Thai-stick, Green-sticky, Dirtweed, Shake, Indian Canamo, Huang Ma, Mary Jane, grass, Ace, Aunt Mary, Bales, Boo Boo Bama, Buddha, Bush, Buzz, Cheeba Cheeba, Chronic, Dank, Doobie, homegrown, Maui-Wowie, MJ, Puff, Rasta, Reefer, Skunk, Smoke, Spliff, Trees, twigs, Whacktabacky, Whackyweed, Sweet Lucy, Stick, Stack, Shwag, Nuggets, Ragweed)Long live the subculture.

Someone Please Help Poor Lindsay Lohan

Brian Schleper — Tue, 24 Jan 2006 16:32:15 EST

I saw a picture of Lindsay Lohan yesterday in this one piece white sun-dressy thing. She looked like someone had propped her cracked out ass up and taken a picture. I could almost hear her whispering...hel..p...mee...Well it got me to thinking. America has an obsession.It's an obsession with looking fit and trim. Sexy if you will. It's an obsession that is gravely distorted by the images you see in magazines and on television. These airbrushed beauties you see in magazines are not real. Those pictures are touched up by artists who hide every blemish, roll, or line you have. I'm not saying that these models aren't naturally beautiful to start. I know they are. But this distorted reality has driven some beautiful people (and some not so) to destroy their bodies. From south beach to the south river more people are getting more cosmetic surgery, going on more body destroying diets, and exercising to the point of exhaustion than ever before. It's like the media has brainwashed us all into believing that until we have rock hard abs and dress our faces up like a cover girl we are not good enough. Did you ever see that scary reality TV show The Swan? It was like they made every contestant into the same woman. At the end of the show they would let the victim look into the mirror for the 1st time in months. "...and now you too are... Swan" it's f'n crazy. If that was me and I was getting to see myself for the 1st time and I looked exactly the same as the Swan from last weeks episode I would be a little upset. I wouldn't be crying tears of joy cause I was 'purdy' that's for sure. Which brings me back to poor Lindsay Lohan. She was a beautiful red headed young woman. She even won the Nickelodeon kid's choice award or some shit. She also had a great natural figure. But then it happened. She started to get famous. First came the breast implants (or are they?) Real or fake? you decide. Then the voices in Lindsey's head started saying: "Look at fatty boombalatty Lindsay Lohan""She looks (gasp) healthy!?!?"Stop shoveling food into your ugly botox-less face without committing to throwing it up later tubs""Your boobs don't look as good as Britney's" and so on...So Lindsay did what any up and coming young actress out of her right mind would do.She bleached her hair ghost white, lost fifty pounds from everywhere but her melon head, took the boobs back to the store, and stopped eating anything that resembled food. Now she looks horrible. She is sickly skinny and looks like the albino version of death. That did manage to land her the staring roll in Herbie Honks for Hooters. Needless to say Herbie and movie goers didn't honk and the movie went into the shitter. Hey at least you can still see Skeletor Lohan in all the gossip magazines and on the E! channel.

New Jersey Residents Need to Learn to Drive

Brian Schleper — Tue, 24 Jan 2006 12:20:30 EST

I know that I drive a little faster than the rest of the population. I also know that some people would say I drive "crazy" or "like a maniac", but honestly I don't see what the hell you are talking about. Just because I know how to drive doesn't mean I drive like a nut job. I just want to get where I am going. Case in point: how many times have you been stuck behind the person going slow in the left lane? This moron has got to be able to tell that there is a line of cars directly behind him. If you are in the left lane and you are going under the speed limit then guess what? YOU DON'T KNOW HOW TO DRIVE. The left lane is for passing slower traffic (which stays in the right lane). Hence the "slower moving traffic keep right signs". It's not for Sunday drivers or for when you are turning left 6 miles ahead. You will have plenty of time to get into the left lane when you get near your turn. A lot of times you are the reason that there is a traffic build up. I can't tell you how many times I am driving to or from work and get stuck behind someone going the same speed or less than the cars in the right lane. If you are neck and neck with the car next to you then get the fuck behind them. You are obviously not going to win the race. Another annoyance is the "slow turner". This guy isn't sure enough about where he is going or how he is going to get there. He makes his turn like he wants to make sure his car actually can turn. If you want to get into the Rite Aid, then by all means, turn the fuck in. Don't dilly-dally like you want to make sure there is really a parking lot and not a hole into the center of the earth. It's really there, I am almost 100% positive it is not an optical illusion. So get in there. Make your turn and mean it. Don't you want to get where you are going? Think about the people behind you who want to keep going. Parking lots are big just so that it's easy to get into them. And people who slow down everytime something is going down on the side of the road -- construction, someone changing a tire, something bright and shiny, etc. What are you looking at? And why the hell are you slowing down? Why, on a two-sided, double split roadway, would you need to slow down when there is something going on way across the street? Hey jack-off, it has nothing to do with you. Either mind your own buisness and keep going, or get the hell out of the way. I don't care if you pull over, get out of the car, and go check it out. If that's your thing then indulge yourself. Also you don't need to slow down to less than the speed limit because a cop has someone pulled over. Hello, he's already pulled someone over, you're safe. I'm not saying whizz by and knock his Tropper hat off, but geeze do you need to drop below 40? Come on...Also, maybe its time we raise the driving age. I mean I'm not saying that all 17- and 18-year-olds can't drive, but I have seen quite a few that certainly shouldn't be behind a wheel. Maybe we just need to make the test more difficult or something. I work with some younger kids and honestly, they are absolutely terrible drivers. One young girl has already had two accidents. How does that happen? Well, let's see. She isn't coordinated, isn't even mildly alert, is about as bright as a 10-watt bulb, and has as much sense as a rock. The driving test is a joke. It certainly doesn't teach any defensive driving techniques or even real situations. The test is more like a 'how to park' class. At least take them out on the road or something. I don't ever worry about my driving, I always worry about other peoples' driving. These girls don't even understand basic laws like who gets to turn first at an intersection, or the principles behing yielding and passing. Also, I am a firm believer that you should have to retake your drivers test at certain times of your life. When you are too old to walk, you shouldn't drive. If you don't have good motor skills then maybe you shouldn't be driving a motor vehicle. I think if you retire you should have to retake the test. I mean there are people driving who are legally blind. How does that happen? I don't want to take everyone's license away when they get to 65, but have you ever driven behind a senior citizen or watched them manuver through traffic? It's freakin' scary, man. Plus, if they can't remember the date how are they going to remember how to drive? Their coordination is shot by that age. Plus they nod off a lot.I am sure that there are a million people who will have the opposite opinion, but I just wanted to put it out there. I was once told that no matter how much I thought I was going to love to drive, that when I got older I would grow to hate it. Well I don't hate it at all, but I do hate other drivers. GET OUT OF MY WAY DAMN YOU!