April 24, 2003
AAAIEE! Whiplash!entry,
On the last 2-minute stretch of my drive home from work Wednesday I got rear-ended. The girl driving was very nice, and I amazed me by NOT unloading on her. Still, my first realization that I'd been hit was AFTER my head had been rocked through its full range of natural motion, so perhaps my depleted profanium abuse cannon was offline, or something.
Insurance concerns aside, I count myself lucky on several counts:
- She was not driving a truck.
- She was not driving an assault vehicle.
- She was not riding a prion-maddened tyrannosaurus rex.
- The police officer who attempted to put this dog out of its misery was not present.
(As a side note, I've just got to say that anybody who claims to know how to fire a handgun, and yet who can FAIL to kill a dog with said weapon at point-blank, headshot range needs to spend a little more time pumping lead through the 10-ring.) - My vehicle still moves safely under its own power.
- I still move safely under my own power.
Hrrrmmm... I just realized that while I can think of several colloquial "tighter than a..." comparisons, they're all inherently racial or patently offensive in at least two ways. Thus we see the failure of colloquialism. The nature of Necessity as the Mother of Invention is made manifest, and the writer is forced to carefully mince his own words while referring to himself in the third person.
... tighter than a metric wrench pounded onto a stripped empirical nut?
*sigh.* I'm afraid there are folks out there who'll still take offense at tightness being compared to stripped nuts, even without my use of the words "wrench" or "pounded." Forget I brought it up.
Hurray for Advil. I can feel the depleted profanium abuse cannon coming back online now... I'm already back to my usual multitasking: typing and offending tender sensibilities at the same time.