A root canal performed with a chainsaw. A Sriracha sauce enema. A handjob from Edward Scissorhands. What do these three things have in common? They are all events that I would sooner endure than a ride on a city bus.

Since the dawn of time, man has had to suffer the intolerable savagery of public transportation. From the 12-seater mammoth of cave man times, to the common city bus of modern times, to the flying golden seahorse chariot of future times, getting around without a personal vehicle has always and will always be a major ass pain.

Please, tell me what’s worse than riding in a subway car with five screaming children, three filthy hobos, a handful of stinking bearded hipsters, and a pregnant 16-year-old. You can’t? I didn’t think so.

What is the solution? I’m glad you asked. First, we take the money being used to fund various unnecessary organizations, such as the National Endowment for the Arts and the Environmental Protection Agency, and use it to widen our nation’s network of roads and highways by five lanes or so. Then, we get rid of those painted lines that separate a road’s lanes. Then, we manufacture a really fancy car, I mean like a Bentley and an Alfa Romeo put together, then we build like ten of them, then we give me the Bentley Romeos and I sit in one and tie the other nine together and ride them like Santa’s sleigh all over the gigantic new roads until I burn up all the fuel in the world. Oh, and nobody else is allowed to drive on the roads.