You know the feeling, when you're following someone who has their turn signal on for four or five miles. When I think about these people, I think of rutabagas, because they're driving as if they're in a permanent vegetative state.
On the other hand, I get to visit on the road at night with drivers of pickups with the giant wheels, bearing down on my rearview mirror with their brights on. I tend to feel they are operating with a perceived need for some type of compensation. The more aggressive the driver, the more compensation apparently needed. I'm thinking, vienna sausage?
I get into a cowlike state, ruminating about this.
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