Thanks, well let me tell you. Nose picking.
Or more importantly, the feeling that no matter how loud I am blasting Die Antwoord, or how many fingers I have shoved into my nostril, somehow we think no one can see or hear us when we are behind the wheel. It's like a travelling sideshow for exhibitionism.
How have we all somehow come to the same conclusion? The windows aren't tinted, some are even rolled down so everyone can hear you belt out the oldies
and miraculously people have formed eyeballs that can see through the densest of glass.
The inside of a moving vehicle, to me, seems like the last vestige of assumed anonymity. I find it fascinating that we somehow have collectively assumed that the inside of our cars is a sacred space that, although everyone has access to it, is assumed to be akin to a closed door bathroom. I get nothing but sheer pleasure when I hear Sheryl Crow lyrics being demolished by a gorgeously large bald man with his finger knuckle deep inside nasal orifice.
Yes to public picking, yes to screaming lyrics, yes to that moment when people realise how exposed they are inside these steel boxes but they just keep keeping on 
The inside of a moving vehicle, to me, seems like the last vestige of assumed anonymity. I find it fascinating that we somehow have collectively assumed that the inside of our cars is a sacred space that, although everyone has access to it, is assumed to be akin to a closed door bathroom. I get nothing but sheer pleasure when I hear Sheryl Crow lyrics being demolished by a gorgeously large bald man with his finger knuckle deep inside nasal orifice.
Yes to public picking, yes to screaming lyrics, yes to that moment when people realise how exposed they are inside these steel boxes but they just keep keeping on
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