The Speeding Ticket

[roccit_53 at hotmail.com (C Boyko)]

And I expected to hear you'd be singing some Jeff Foxworthy, you know the 
one, "My cellmate thinks I'm sexy..."

Maybe it's that steath grey, (Or is that primer/dirt?). Perhaps it evades 
the radar. That, or the cop recognized the car as an international movie 
star, seen in such well acclaimed films as "The 7 minute clutch" and "The 
engine"?

As for the breasts, better get growing some buddy. The way you drive, they 
may just come in handy (not that I'd know, big ol' winkie)
Cathy



>From: Anson Clement <ansonivan@yahoo.com>
>To: scirocco-l@scirocco.org
>Subject: The Speeding Ticket
>Date: Mon, 22 Mar 2004 14:52:01 -0800 (PST)
>
>
>The Speeding Ticket
>
>
>
>
>
>A Monday in mid March can be many things, in Ohio such a day is usually 
>rather shitty. The Monday I’m about to tell you about was balmy-ish, 
>uneventful, with just a hint of boring. I was tooling home from my last job 
>of the day, my 8V Scirocco was running well for a car that’s been beaten 
>like a two dollar Mexican whore and I was feeling good.
>
>I-70 between Zanesville and Columbus is a lonely rolling stretch of 
>highway, sections of which dip through mile and a half long valleys. It was 
>at the lip of just such a hollow that the ever present urge to crush the 
>loud pedal snuck up on me, bludgeoned my better judgment, and had it’s way.
>
>The 8V surged forward with all the power and grace of a dead ostrich, the 
>new engine eschewed a wonderful symphony of rattles and clanks as the tach 
>needle wavered past 5k. My brakes sent a wobbling complaint through the 
>pedal and into my suddenly heavy right foot, I saw him, but far too late. 
>The cruiser angled, door ajar, one boot on the ground, laser gun to eye. I 
>swept by him at a suddenly attained 65, the baleful glare told all I was 
>well and truly fucked.
>
>As the beater struggled up the far side of the valley my eyes locked on the 
>rearview, mind scrabbling desperately for a plausible lie. My speedo cable 
>was in fact broken but the fact that I was passing other cars like a 
>supermodel in a buffet line might have cast doubt on the legitimacy of such 
>a claim. I could say something about a stuck throttle but my complete lack 
>of breasts might make the officer disinclined to let me off on such a tall 
>one. One twenty in a sixty five was certainly a mandatory court appearance, 
>no wait, this is Ohio, more like mandatory castration!
>
>I had now reached the other side of the valley of the shadow of death, 
>still no flashing lights, no speeding grey shape looming in my rearview. 
>Twenty minutes later and still no pork, the elation washed over me, the 
>smell of sweet reprieve almost covering the pungent odors emanating from my 
>now soggy crotch.
>
>
>
>
>
>
>Do you Yahoo!?
>Yahoo! Finance Tax Center - File online. File on time.
>_______________________________________________
>Scirocco-l mailing list
>Scirocco-l@scirocco.org
>http://neubayern.net/mailman/listinfo/scirocco-l

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