June 25th, 2001


Not Fare

I drove to Jersey this weekend to see Grandma and assorted friends. While I have made this drive countless times, there is one part of it that I can never swallow with a straight face: tolls.

I’m fine with the Baltimore tunnel tolls. It is very clear that those tolls are for the upkeep of the tunnels. I’m pretty okay with the Delaware Memorial Bridge toll for the same reason (but I can’t seem to understand why it’s $1 to go into Jersey and $3 to leave), but it’s kind of a bite in the ass when I’ve just paid $2.65 in NJ Turnpike tolls and then to get hit with that bridge toll 500 feet later. The Turnpike tolls make some sense too. It’s basically an express road since all of the exits are upwards of fifteen miles from each other. You are paying for the convenience of not having to bother with merging traffic and lane disappearances, and you do have the toll-free option of taking 95 proper through Philadelphia and Eastern Pennsylvania, so taking the toll-laden Jersey Turnpike is your choice.

But randomly located on 95 are two tolls that I’m surprised no one has set fire to yet. The “Welcome to Maryland So Kiss My Ass” toll and the “You’re Only In Delaware For Ten Minutes So We Have To Fuck You Somehow” toll. Both of these tolls are in excess of a dollar a pop, Delaware’s has recently jumped from $1.25 to $2. These tolls serve no purpose other than to cause traffic. On more than one occasion, I have suffered through two-mile backups waiting my turn to show these two states my gratitude for allowing me to travel upon the highways that just so happen to tread on their space. No other state on the east coast has the audacity to charge a service fee. I’m sorry the people in your state don’t pay enough taxes. I’m sorry that your little property happens to be between important places. But it’s just not my fault. And fuck you for making me suffer for it.

I would recommend an east-coast wide Curse-At-The-Toll-Collector protest, but it’s not those poor bastards’ faults. They have to sit in those little rooms, choke down their pride and a hefty dose of carbon monoxide while they do the man’s bidding. I’d suggest hauling ass through the tolls and not paying, but damned if there has ever been an opportunity to go through them with any rate of speed, and you’d probably get caught and have to donate more than two dollars to the cause as a result. So we’re all forced to do what I do, sit in your car contemplating whether or not to spit on the bills before you hand them off, but end up just begrudgingly handing them over.
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    Some oldies channel on Shoutcast.
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Having been properly proven wrong, I retract my comment of Thursday, June 21, 2001.

Since the photograph on Bob's journal is not young Bob, evidence as to whether or not young Bob White resembeled Luke Skywalker is inconclusive.

Another food entry

I recommend a law that mandates any food product containing undesirables should be clearly labeled. There should never be any confusion as to whether or not the cookie I just bought has nuts in it. Unless there are huge warnings on the package such as THIS OTHERWISE DELICIOUS COOKIE CONTAINS WALNUTS. PLEASE STAY AS FAR AS POSSIBLE FROM THIS CONTAMINATED CONFECTION IF YOU HAVE ANY SENSE WHATSOEVER.

Why would any sadist ever consider destroying a cookie with something like a nut? Who do they think is benefitting from any sort of conspicuousness about the presence of the nuts? Are cookie-makers like my parents, who believed forcing food on me would eventually make me like it?
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