x
schencka
"War hates you."
Taking Jeremy to the airport this morn, I had the opportunity to drive by the Speedway St. recruitment centers, where people protest (and less so, "support") Bush's ongoing wars. The above is a sign I think I'd use if I were to attend.

It's Jess's 26th birthday. Happy birthday, Jessica! You should really read this blog.

I've been feeling a lot better of late, less irritation, more peace, more sweat care of the Tucson heat, which really clears out the toxins. But my car is still a nuisance. It's a 1992 Lexus ES 300 with nearly 190,000 miles. The circuitry for the power locks and windows has gone out, and I've been directed to take the vehicle to an "automotive electrician" by the regular fix-it guys. This does not bode well. The windows won't come up, so I think I'll put a tarp over the vehicle during this trip to the M-W (Midwest).

That's the foregrounding for my latest Totally Sociopathic Fantasy. I was driving around Tucson in the vehicle getting b-day gifts for my fair wife, slowly, because Tucson has no freeway system (unlike every American city of its size, i.e. 600,000+). A plump, surely spoiled young woman was driving a newish Toyota mid-size SUV behind me, talking on her cell phone, and appearing to look to the passenger seat beside her, in between lunges at my vehicle. (I prefer to glide through traffic, not ride the bumper of the vehicle ahead me, which miffed this young Miss, apparently.) I realized, gazing at her in my rearview window, that this woman would be a prime candidate to get rear-ended by, given 1) the fact that she's giving more attention to chomping fries and fast food than traffic, taking her head completely out of vision of the road more than once; 2) she surely has decent car insurance; 3) and the fact that she had been mouthing at me in her car, to what end I know not.

So, what I could've done, devious me, is wait for her to lean right and then I would stomp on the breaks, getting slammed for sure, but I'm used to hard impacts (see my bike accident entry). Then I'd call the cops, claim I was avoiding a bicyclist or pet, report the woman for not having enough distance, and hopefully get enough insurance money, like $2,000, to "total" my poor vehicle and get a newed used car. Sounds like a decent plan, right? Of course, it's insurance fraud, and I would rather not risk my neck, Jesus H. Christ.

Now excuse me, I've got to go buy a blue tarp for my haggard car. --adam9000
 
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