I'm kidding, but seriously, how lame would that be? I mean, Picard got assimilated, I wouldn't stand a chance. The Borg have one chase speed, and it's incredibly efficient. I don't know that it would be all bad though. I mean, it's a pretty sweet deal, you get turned into what is basically a cow with really cool futuristic weapons. You don't have to remember that yesterday was Jason's birthday or that next Tuesday you have a social event with your Sunday School class. You pretty much wait for the order, then go out and turn a bunch of people into what you could loosely call "friends."
That's all the Borg ever wanted. A bunch of friends.
I seem to have gone off on a tangent. Let's spin this thing back around before I go posting links to the "THERE ARE FOUR LIGHTS!" video again. Seriously. Click that link. Greatest TNG moment, EVER.
Okay. Seriously. Back to my nemesis. They've recently started popping up all over the place, and they are very much hindering my ability to get from point A to point B in a timely fashion. Now, a lot of you may be wondering just what is at point B that is so all fired important, and I'll tell you. It's my job. Point A would be my house, and point C would probably be my dojo, and last night I ran into one of these things while going from point C to point A, and I almost completely lost it. The thing is, I knew it would be there, but I thought that the niceness of the drive would over-compensate for it. It didn't.
These things are stupid. They are foul, and they are evil. They are one step further to our world relying completely on machinery instead of the intuitiveness and ingenuity of the human mind. They are cold, mechanical, and mean. They like to surprise you with mixed up signals, and they don't mind making you wait while the clock slowly ticks towards you being late for whatever it is that you so desperately need to be on time for. I have a sneaking suspicion that they might all be pedophiles, and I really think someone needs to do a background check on these things.
Temporary traffic lights.
In all seriousness, why can't these things die in a fire? I mean, who really NEEDS them? What happened to construction crews putting their worst man out in front with a stop sign that said slow on the back? You know the guy, he had a mullet, he was slightly over weight, may have had a touch of Down's syndrome, and always made you kind of nervous if you were the only one waiting? Like, he'd stand a little TOO close to the car? Like maybe he was going to make a move for you, so you locked all the doors not caring if he heard them? That guy. Where is he now? I'll tell you where he's at, he's helping work on the bridge that you want to cross, and you don't want that guy doing that. That was the whole reason they gave him the sign, anyway. He was too incompetent to be an actual WORKER, and now he's working. He's probably putting rebar in the wrong way, urinating in the concrete, and generally just making things not safe. And not not safe like maybe showing you the slow side when he should be showing you the stop side. We're talking not safe like if you have more than two cars at a time on the newly "repaired" bridge, the acid from his urine (everyone knows people with Down's have very acidic urine) is going to cause the concrete to crumble and YOU ARE GOING TO DIE.
So I'm begging you, construction crews. Please put John or Jeff or Terry or Bill or whoever he is back to work. Take down these retarded lights and give the slightly retarded people back the only job they were ever halfway good at to begin with. I mean, what's next? Are you going to take the handicapped greeter away at Wal-Mart and replace her with a robot? Because I will kick that robot. Every time I come in, I'll kick it.
Until then, I'm going to do my best to come up with a way to destroy my nemesis. Until THEN, I'm going to find a side street. Keep an eye out, pedestrians, I'll be an angry driver. But hey, if I hit you, it might turn you into a vegetable, and then you can work on bridges.