Oh, the daily commute. Mine used to be from the bedroom . . . to the spare bedroom. Now I get to share my trip with the masses. Well, this one’s for you, fellow Austinites. There are other roads than Lamar. Please take them. But if you can’t, and you have to share the road, try not to be one of these guys.

The World thanks you.

Oh the slow lane changers. They are oblivious. They are talking on their phone. They are TAKING FOREVER TO GET IN THE FREAKING TURN LANE!!! These people manage to take the good thing of turning on a turn signal and make it into a bad thing as they straddle two lanes for 200 feet gradually slowing down to a crawl. Do us all a favor, Slow Lane Changer. Make the commitment. To one lane at a time. We’ll both be happier.

You know this guy. You’re walking out of the grocery store into the lot. You feel that tingling on the back of your neck. You look behind you and see that truck slowly creeping along, matching your pace. The Parking Lot Stalker is either gunning for your parking spot or plotting your abduction. They annoy me so much, I sometimes wish it was the second one. So I mess with these people. I walk extra slow and take routine “Am I in the right row?” stops. They eventually lose interest. And I rest better knowing that they’ll get an extra 30 seconds of exercise by having to walk further to the store. You see, it’s because I care.

You’re following the Phantom Braker. There are no other cars within sight. They hit the brakes. So you hit the brakes. They keep going. So you keep going. They hit the brakes. You hit the brakes. They keep going. You keep going. Seeing a pattern here? For the life of me I can’t figure out what they are braking for. Are they getting cut off by imaginary cars? Are they dodging camouflage squirrels? Maybe its Restless Leg Syndrome. I hear there’s a drug for that.

Dear Super Secret Turners: There is the thingy next to the steering wheel thingy. You move it down when you turn left. Right when you turn right. It’s so the rest of the world knows where you are going because we have yet to evolve to the point where we can use our psychic abilities to divine your turning intentions. This advice offered free of charge.

For the record, I love my bike. I love to ride, though I don’t do it much these days. But, there are cyclists who ruin it all for the rest of us. They are the Halo Cyclists. Halo Cyclists are the most ardent “share the road” people who want you to know you are destroying the planet with your car and they have a legal right to be on the road—all the while breaking said laws by running stop signs, red lights, hopping from sidewalk to street, street to sidewalk while wearing all black on a bike without a helmet at night. Oh the hypocrisy. Cyclist hate mail in three . . . two . . . one . . .

For whatever reason, when a driver does a dick move like intentionally cutting me off or doing the no-signal-lane-change-while-talking-on-the-phone-smoking-a-cigarette-and-texting it’s a LEXUS DRIVER. I’m serious. 8 times out of 10. Are assholes attracted to Lexuses? Or does owning a Lexus turn you into an asshole. It’s one of the great mysteries. If you are a Lexus owner, and not an avowed asshole, I’d take a deep breath, go to the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror. It might be time to buy a Prius.

Probably my most hated driver is the Passive-Aggressive Anti-Passer. It’s always a guy. He’s always going just slow enough that you need to pass him. Then, as you pass, he speeds up to match you. Is he a NASCAR fan secretly living the dream during rush hour? My only rationale for this kind of action is that his car is really the physical manifestation of his EGO. And it’s a fragile ego at that. It may run on gasoline, but its made out of broken dreams.

Nothing quite like the high pitch sound of a scooter as it passes you by. It’s like a hipster farting. Actually, I really don’t hate scooters. Just their sound.

Not merely satisfied with polluting their body with sweet nectar of cigarette smoke, the Cancer Clan must share their goodness with the world—by throwing their cigs out the window. It’s because they are giving people, really.

Once in a blue moon, an ambulance passes you. Some people just can’t bring themselves to slow down. Clearly none of these people have ever ridden in an ambulance. They must all be in the middle of life and death scenarios to keep them from making way for the ACTUAL life and death scenario. Why else would they not stop? Oh, I know. It’s because they are douchebags.

Well, there you have it. If this list makes you angry, it’s probably because you are on the road right now. Stop reading and driving. Go get yourself a smoothie.

They make everything better.

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It’s a big bad annoying world out there:

Job posts that annoy me
Facebook people who annoy me
Bathroom people who annoy me
Gym people who annoy me
Town lake people who annoy me

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I occasionally tweet stuff. Follow at @fangmarks