Politically incorrect thoughts from a tree hugging gas guzzler

I have a confession. I drive an Excursion. It gets 9 miles to the gallon. The Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia sends me a birthday card every year. Small children in his country sing my praises.
In these times of high gas prices, a tree hugger such as myself should forgo the Land Beast and embrace the forward thinking, environmentally correct, save-the-planet, God bless the Queen, 80 miles to the gallon modernized scooter.
I mean have you seen them lately? They're hip, innovative, sleek, and down right adorable.

Then I realized, the people I've seen riding these scooters make me want to vomit.

Case in point #1:
Just the other day, I saw a piece of scooter trash in his khaki cargo shorts, environmentally green recycled hemp t-shirt, Birkenstock sandals and of course the all-important helmet made of recycled Styrofoam cups sporting his bad ass tattoo.
Not a Don't-want-to-meet-you-in-a-dark-alley Harley bad ass tattoo. But a triple venti, non-fat, half caf, I-just-spent-$18-on-a-foo foo-latte tattoo. It was the size of a postage stamp placed just above his ankle. I think he was still crying from the shame, I mean pain.
As if to justify my lowly judgemental thoughts, Girl Child phoned me from the rear seat of the Excursion (I hate it when they make long distance phone calls without permission) to ask me if I saw the weird man on the little bike with a bug on his ankle down there by our running board?

Case in point #2:
Female moron with cracker jack driver's license trying to prove she was better than me because she was on her gas sipping scoo-ter instead of belly-up to the bar, drink-as-fast-and-hard-as-you-can-then-wake-up-to-coyote-ugly-the-next-morning, gas guzzlin' Land Beast.
She cut she cut me off.
Let me say it again so you get the whole picture.
She. cut. me. off.
Think it through honey. I've had gnats bigger than you on my windshield.

I've decided scooters are the lowest form of vehicular life. They look up to European mopeds. When they weave in and out of traffic they are like an annoying swarm of flies swarming around a big pile of poo.

Help me spread the word. Friends don't let friends drive scooters.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: It's time to fill the Land Beast darlin'. Do you have any extra body parts we can sell? Your diseased kidney only fetched me a 1/4 tank.