[GB/archives/includes/imagesother.htm]

The BMV... Your Ticket To Death

Since I'm turning 21 next week, I had to make a run to the Bureau of Motor Vehicles this week to get a new license. So I can buy beer. And forget about idiots. I hadn't been to the BMV since I was 16... and I was probably drunk because I don't remember it too well. I didn't know it was such a scary place. When you hear people talk about how mean people at the BMV are they aren't shittin'.

Like a scene out of a 1600's massacre, there's people laying everywhere, the smell of old urine covering the walls, and really really mean employees behind the counter.

I walk up and hand her my license and tell her I need to renew and she asks, "renew what?" Huh? Did she really just ask me that? Yeah toots, I came here to renew my YMCA membership. Give me a new license dipshit. Then the questions began.

- Are you a legal US resident? NO, I was really hoping you could help me out with that too, the line at the imigration office was too long.

- Is your license revoked? YES, that's why I have it on me right now. Dumbass.

- Do you still weigh 120 pounds? YES, I haven't gained a pound since I was 16.

- Are you currently addicted to drugs or alcohol? YES, I thought you'd never ask. I'm smashed right now, good lookin'

- Do you date fat chicks? NO. I can't even joke about that one. Just caught me off guard that they asked.

- Do you currently have a warrant out for your arrest? YUP, cuff me.

- Am I good looking? Not a chance.

After all of that, they sit me down to take my picture. And hell, it doesn't even look like me. When they say those pictures add 20 pounds and 10 years, they're lying. They add 40 pounds and 20 years...

Hell, I don't even have a beard... or a receding hairline... or a really really bad shirt. Damn BMV. Next time I'll just go in there with a grenade in my hand.