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Thursday, December 15, 2016

Greetings Laff Lovers,

My reflexes got the better of me today. And it cost me a big, fat, paycheck, too.

When I was out at lunch today I made a couple of personal stops. After the last one I was in my car getting ready to back out of my parking spot, and like I always do I threw my hand over the backrest, turned to look out the back window and backed out into the lane.

Just as I stopped and was about to grab the gear shift to throw the vehicle into Drive, I saw the reverse lights on a delivery truck in a spot just opposite me flash on.

And it was a delivery truck that belonged to one of the big companies. The really big companies.

In the space of about one-and-a-half seconds his brake lights went off, the truck accelerated 3 or 4 feet straight toward my driver's side door, and without thinking my hand paused half-way between the wheel and the shifter and slammed on the horn.

His truck jerked to a stop six inches from my door and a half a second later my brain kicked in and I thought to myself, "Damn! I should have let him hit me."

How often have I fantasized about a driver for some big, heavily insured company running me off the road?

And there I was, in the ideal situation. I would have leapt out of my car, clutching my neck in agony, and begin rolling around the parking lot screaming for a lawyer.

What do you think something like that would be worth? $25k?

But no, my finely-tuned, lightning-like reflexes over-rode the higher, insurance fraud functions of my brain and saved me from what might very well have been a bruised elbow and a five-figure check.

Merry Christmas to me.



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Daughter back to mom:
"Oh my God, mom... sorry, I meant to spell gum. But what the hell?"

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Back and forth...back and forth. In and and out. A little to the right...a little to the left. She could feel the sweat on her forehead, between her breasts and trickling down the small of her back.

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