My North American namesake vs Stupid drivers

GOOD THING: MY NORTH AMERICAN NAMESAKE

Just about anyone who works in an office will have googled their name at some stage. It's quite worrying where you find yourself turning up, but it's also fascinating to find there is someone else with exactly the same name. Okay, if your name is Kate Smith there are going to be thousands of you, but I've got a relatively unusual name and have found that there is an American 'me.' Not only that, but through the power of google (and long hours at work) I have also managed to piece together her life story. I think. (But I should probably state a disclaimer here to say that if I've got this entirely wrongI apologise and mean nothing by it!)
So, this other Holly Hooper graduated from the class of 1996 at Tobique Valley High School, in Plaster Rock, New Brunswick. She attended Panhandle State University in Oklahoma, where she played centre field, left field and right field for the women's softball team (the photo, as far as I know, is not her - just a random softballer.) She married Dr Shiloah Stover, became Holly Hooper-Stover, and then started a teaching career in Sayre, Oklahoma. None of this has any real significance - and, frankly, I should probably use my time at work more productively - but I like to think that maybe this other Holly has also googled our name, and has wondered about me too. Of course, it's good to know that I come first in the Google hits, though...

BAD THING: STUPID DRIVERS

This is a topic that most people could rant about for hours, and of course nobody thinks - or would acknowledge - that they're the stupid driver that everyone hates. People who almost invariably fall into this are taxi drivers, white van men, boy/girl racers and anyone who thinks we all want to hear their thumping dance music while waiting at traffic lights. The photo above illustrates one of the most stupid habits of British drivers - chatting on the mobile, usually while cruising down the motorway at 70mph or trying to execute a complicated manoeuvre in the middle of traffic. The fact that it's illegal seems to make no difference, probably because most of these people believe that they're excellent drivers and somehow more important than everyone else. I hate commuting to work, but I did have a moment of unadulterated joy one day when I saw a man on a mobile shunt another vehicle at a roundabout. Heh heh. My ex-flatmate got fined by the police for talking on her mobile, and I had absolutely zero sympathy. I actually don't know how anyone can properly concentrate on the road and on a conversation; I don't dare do anything except keep my hands on the wheel and pray that I won't get hit by a maniac.
Another one of my pet driving peeves (and the list is depressingly long) is drivers who zoom up behind you in the inside lane while you're overtaking, trying to force you to break the speed limit. Typically, they're driving a Merc, a BMV, a Chelsea Tractor or a formerly-white van with 'please wash me' written in dust on the back. The vans all have a 'How's My Driving?' sticker on the back, which is just inviting abusive responses. The engine size of my car makes it slightly more powerful than a moped, so trying to get it to drive faster than 70mph is anyway easier said than done, but I take a particular, perverse pleasure in making pushy drivers wait. If I'm like this in my mid-twenties, what am I going to be like at 60?!