Loud Car Guys

It’s only fitting that I start off this “newsletter” with the most important topic in the world — these men in the extra loud vehicles ruining my short experience on this earth. If you follow me on twitter you know that, along with cilantro-less guacamole and Triscuits, this is the main thing I spend my time campaigning against.

My first question, maybe the age old question — why do loud car guys have such little baby dongs? Which came first the lil baby dong or the loud car? Maybe, if we as a society stopped demonizing small wieners we could prevent these tragedies (loud car guys). Maybe it’s systemic. Maybe it’s up to me to start doing the work to end the stigma (ew can you imagine if I became “Little Dick Woman”) so we can finally rest in the street. Or maybe I need to lobby Congress and propose legislation outlawing car places (official term) from augmenting engine loudness. But don’t these men know that I’m talking to my mom on the phone in the street? She can’t hear what I say when you go by.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t hear with that noise, did you say you’re going to surf camp?”

“Mom, I’m 47 years old why would I be going to surf camp?”

“You know I thought it was odd…”

They incinerate my equilibrium with one rev. They give me vertigo of the spirit. The best way I can describe it is that it feels like I’m riding my skateboard and someone jumped out of the bushes and pushed me off like one of those “epic fails” videos. The wind? Knocked out of me. I’ll be walking along the street just observing the world literally having a very engrossed thought about how miraculous divine intelligence is to have created a flower growing out of cement and then I get hit by this assault of sound spinning me around like a looney tune.

And I know what you’re thinking — what you resist persists, sweetie, do your internal work. Of course. And so maybe my non-acceptance of these men is precisely what’s attracting them into my life at such an unceasing rate, but also I think I just live in one of the loudest places in the world (Hollywood). I probably should move to a quiet shack on a lake, but alas, no can do with my red hot career.

Acceptance is the key to life or so I keep hearing. I guess it makes sense because we have no control over anything outside ourselves which I think is a bit of a flaw in god’s system if you ask me. He should have made me Global Chairman of Vehicle Volume if he/she(?) knew anything. Would like to file an appeal. Have a few notes from neighborhood watch.

And yet, the wound generating these loud moto men is blindingly clear. They just want to finally be seen and heard — even if it’s by people flipping them off and bowing their heads in startled pity. These men are gasping for eyes like a swimmer coming up for air. It’s like a disgruntled teen trying to get their non-emotionally attuned parent’s attention by getting in fights at school, except these men are fully grown adults. Loud car guys are just trying to fill the hole inside them with bitter sound. There’s a lot of humanity in it if you choose to look at it softly. Nevertheless, your trauma doesn’t justify your violence. You absolute fuckin sickos. Also, I know what each and every one of your dating profiles says without reading it. Clockwork. As predictable as the sunrise.

Okay, I must tell the truth, I am one of those “HSP’s” — highly sensitive people. Disgusting. A HSP is defined as “a person with deeper central nervous system sensitivity to physical, emotional, or social stimuli”. HAHA LOOKS LIKE I PICKED THE PERFECT JOB AS A TRAVELING CLOWN MAKING MYSELF VULNERABLE TO HUNDREDS OF STRANGERS IN DIFFERENT ENVIRONMENTS EVERY NIGHT. I never say this HSP fact out loud, in fact, I’ve never said it to anyone, I’d rather not discuss it ever. It’s unnecessary to bring up, like the oft-self identified title of “empath” — oh you want a trophy for not being a clinical psychopath? Empath is the baseline, you should feel for others, you’re regular. All you get is “not Ted Bundy so far”.

The only thing that embarrasses me more than being a HSP is having allergies. Allergies feel like the epitome of weakness but this could just be the deeply ingrained toxic masculinity from my upbringing? Haha, who knows.

20% of the population are thought to be HSPs. But, and I’m just going out on a limb here, I do feel like the other 80% of the population is with me against loud car guys. And I know “us vs. them” is very 3D thinking and I prefer to be striving towards 5D living but I do feel there is a common enemy here. Okay, my lower self seems to very much be at the helm right now, sure, but I pray these men find peace one day so the rest of us can can enjoy the cement flowers in tranquility. By the way, regular, average car noise is totally fine with me, I swear to god. I’m too old to go to surf camp.