Friday, January 10, 2003

Move Over!

Move over! I need my space. I need to sit up high and view the land as I roll down the road.

Move over, slowpoke, smallfry! You're in my way. As I roll down the road in the comfy comfort of my leather luxury, with my surround sound around me and the empty seats beside me, I have an appointment to make.

Move over, you whining weasel. Don't tell me I'm supporting terrorists. Don't tell me I'm guzzling gas. Don't tell me I'm belching smog. I don't want to hear it. I'm not listening.

My life. My SUV. So what if it gets 11 miles to the gallon? [1]

Just move over!

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[1] Anti-SUV television commercials: http://www.thedetroitproject.com/
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