“What are you doing?”
“I’m putting the restaurant we’re going to into my GPS.”
“Um…it’s a half-mile down this road.”
Shuttle and cab drivers, go crazy with the positioning systems. Maybe the route from the airport won’t be quite as circuitous (and therefore expensive) with some help from above. On a long road trip, go ahead and bust it out. See, I’m all for things that make life easier. But some geographically challenged chumps seem to be using GPS to find their own ass.
You’ve lived in this neighborhood for years, Lostco de Gama. You don’t seem as if you’ve suffered a crushing blow to the head resulting in temporary global amnesia. So why on earth do you turn to a bossy machine to get anywhere and everywhere? Why do you require assistance to drive in a straight line, Christopher Coldumbass? High school geometry must have been a real bitch. Word problems probably sent you into the fetal positioning system.
Why do you need a disembodied automaton with an Australian accent to tell you what to do? That’s what a dominatrix is for, duh. And I’m right here in the passenger seat, ready and willing to tell you where to get off, if you get my drift.