It's a Toss Up

I can't decide if I get more stressed out following the little old man going 15 miles below the speed limit on a 6 mile stretch of no-passing-zone roads or being in front of the asshat who's inches from my bumper in his jacked-up, Calvin-Peeing-on-whatever-he-hates-sticker-on-the-back-window, bad-mufflered pick up truck weaving right to left behind me (did I mention he's inches from my bumper???), flipping me the finger, because it's obviously my fault that the car in front of me is slow.