The way life kicks me in the butt ...It's like every single time I make fun of or give someone a hard time for something, I get it back tenfold. A few months back, Ernie Macias kept getting sick, so I was constantly making fun of him for it. So guess what? Yup, I've been sick for almost two months straight! Which I guess I deserve for the way I was hounding him about it, but that's beside the point.
When it comes to Johnny Law, it seems that luck is never on my side for too long. I had a streak of being ticket-free for more than a year, and I was beginning to brag. My buddy, Curtis, had recently got a ticket. So stupid me, not being able to keep my mouth shut, I proceeded to harass him about it. And then you know what happened the very next day? Of course you do, my very own little yellow present arrived, courtesy of the nice mustached man who said, "Now by signing here, you're not admitting to guilt ..."
Well, I guess I deserved the speeding ticket, and that would have been my fair share of punishment for making fun of Curtis, but it didn't stop there. For the next week, I had the worst luck in the history of luck!
Some friends and I were out one night, and I told them I would drive so they could have a few drinks. Well, for some reason, all of my buddies like to drive the most obnoxious-looking vehicles, and we might as well have had a sign that read,"Please pull me over, I have money to pay for these meaningless tickets ..." So there I was: driving a brand-new Tundra lifted on 40s, and mobbing the freeway home. Just as we were arguing whether the speedometer reads over or under the correct number after you lift your truck, I saw the red lights laughing at me in the rearview mirror. Great, not again!
In case you were wondering, the speedometer does read lower, because he clocked me at 80 mph and the speedometer said 65 mph. Oh, but that's not quite where this chapter ends. Being the nice guy I am, I decided to drive another friend of mine home in his obnoxiously lifted F-150. To save you another boring story about how much I hate tickets, and those who deliver them directly to yours truly, let's just say that his stereo likes to rumble the world and we got popped yet again.
In hindsight, I'm never going to make fun of anyone again, never going to speed, and am not driving other people's obnoxious trucks ever again; I'll only drive my own! Now we'll just have to see what stupid thing I'll do to deserve the next cute little yellow present hand-delivered directly from those who serve and protect us... Until then, please drag thru!