You don’t understand my lifestyle

Let’s get one thing straight: it’s never okay to criticize something just because you don’t understand it.

Those of you who know me personally are very familiar with the fact that I am constantly targeting hitchhikers and hitting them with my car. Obviously not everybody is comfortable with this, and I have lost more than my fair share of so-called “friends” because of it, but the people I want in my life are the ones who aren’t so quick to judge.

If you have a friend or loved one who enjoys an alternative lifestyle, be it hitting hitchhikers with their car, bouncing pedestrians off the hood of their shuttle bus, or plowing their hatchback into hobos, you might have been tempted to ask them questions like “why would you do this,” “this seems like murder,” and “there is literally no way that was consensual.”

Reality check: these questions, two of which are actually statements, do nothing but make both of you uncomfortable, and put your ignorance on full display.

You might be at ease in the vanilla, cookie-cutter life prescribed to you by big pharma and whatever we’re saying has replaced TV, but that doesn’t give you the right to pass judgement on an invigorating and wholly beautiful lifestyle choice just because it diverges from yours.

Live and let live,” said Paul McCartney and Wings, whom I have often dreamed of steamrolling along the shoulder of a winding country road. They immediately contradicted that statement with a punchy chorus, but I think they were right initially. With that in mind, I would like to send a message directly to the haters who have lately been harassing me about my alternative lifestyle:

You don’t know what you’re talking about.

You should know that running down hitchhikers has been a flourishing subculture since the invention of the automobile, and is a perfectly natural manifestation of the God-given predatory instincts that are triggered when travelling at “hunting speed” in the types of isolated, wooded areas hitchhikers are often found.

You should also know that only around 25 per cent of the hitchhikers intentionally run down every year are killed by the impact. Some don’t even suffer permanent quadriplegia.

Finally, on the subject of getting and giving consent, I have never run down a hitchhiker who wasn’t giving me an enthusiastic thumbs up.

Ignorant and sometimes hateful comments regarding my activities, which are frankly none of your business, have resulted in me having to end many friendships (some by running those people down with my car), but I have emerged stronger and more determined to hit people with my car than ever. At the end of the day, this is about respect, and if I can’t have your respect, then I don’t want you around. I want you rolling limply to a stop in a contorted mess on the shoulder of the freeway, as I keep driving.

In conclusion, I’d like to speak directly to my friends in the #hikerhunter community. Until the wholesale murder of hitchhikers is legalized nation-wide, we must rely on each other to fight for recognition, and for the right to snuff the last breath from every one of those dirty, vagrant dendrophiles. All we’re asking for is some dignity, and I’m sure that some day soon we will get it.

As Paul McCartney and Wings eventually said, (and I don’t believe I’m paraphrasing):

“Live and let hitchhikers die.”