Ask Satan Anything

Dear Satan,

What should I do if I’m driving behind a car and they’re going 10 mph under the speed limit, so I go to pass, and they speed up just to be a dick. My first reaction would be to ram them, but I want to know, What would Satan do?

~ Commuting Sentence

Greetings Commuting Sentence,

What would Satan do? For one thing, Satan doesn’t drive himself when wandering the earth in human form. I also don’t use limos. Or Tuk Tuk’s. The only mode of transportation I can endorse is the rickshaw.

First of all, sitting in a rickshaw gives you a beautiful view of human misery on an intimate and personal level, which is something that I very much enjoy being a witness too. What’s better than watching a ninety-two pound eighty-two year old frail as shit Asian great-grandfather of twelve struggle to drag around 210 pounds of super-being for one yen plus tip? Nothing. If you ask me.

That reminds me. I was riding in a wide body rickshaw with Naomi Campbell, Foxy Brown and Perez Hilton one time- this was probably 2006 or so. We were on the way to an after hours party in Soho, and decided it would be funny to make this homeless guy drag us around in a home-made rickshaw I stitched together using a hot dog cart and a small dumpster. We were headed down Broome Street and Perez took his copy of the Walter Matthau biography he’d been reading, and sort of lodged it down between the wheel of the hot dog cart making it extremely difficult to pull. The homeless guy was huffing and puffing. He was loaded on Sierra Mist, and he just couldn’t fathom the physics that were causing us to become so impossibly hard to drag. We laughed and laughed. I had sex with Perez that night, I think.  Interesting that he soon after changed the name of his blog from PageSixSixSix to something else.  I think I overwhelmed him.

I’ve gotten a bit off track. But my answer is this. Park the car in your neighbors yard and get yourself a hotdog cart, a small dumpster and some worthless human. You won’t regret it.

You’re welcome,