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Make This a Chapter in My Book...

Growing up, everytime I had a good, philosphical thought, I'd shout "Make this a chapter in my book!" Well, it certainly is not a book, but it's close enough.

I've decided to document via blog all the random concepts I've come up with over the years. Having turned 21 not more than two weeks ago, I'm pretty much ready to take on the world - blog style. I really tried to fit in to the "my boyfriend dumped me, and I got a great deal on this plus I just sewed an entire wardrobe" world of blogging, but that didn't go over too well.

These posts are loaded with random (sometimes useless) facts that you can hopefully gather inspiration from! ...or atleast, a conversation starter or two. Give it a read, so that you won't be tempted to judge the "proverbial" book by its cover... or in this case, the "proverbial" blog by its URL.

Chapter 4: Some Much Needed Humor

Ok, read this on a car forum the other day.... it made me laugh, cry, and wonder if it is actually true.

Hope you like it! And have a HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

"I don't get to see my girflriend too much because I work so many hours a week that it's almost impossible. That, mixed with her schedule, doesn't make for much time to see her. When I do find time to see her, I fly from work to her house going 90 in a 55 MPH zone.

That being said, Monday I was speeding to her house from work. I was on a local highway and about 5 minutes from her house when the blue lights blinded my eyes from my rear-view mirror.

Damn, I've just been pulled over. The officer walked up to my car, asked how I was doing, then the usual "license and registration, please".

Nothing out of the ordinary. I carry a gun for my profession and still had it strapped to my side, so I showed him my work ID and gun permit BEFORE whipping out the gun and saying: "Here's my gun! I'm allowed to carry one!" Phew, won't do that one again.

After looking over the permit, he eyeballed my crotch. "I'm going to have to ask you to step out of the car, sir. Keep your hands where I can see them."

Either he's a gay cop, or he has a problem with the gun. I was asked to put my hands on the roof of the car. He pulled my 357 out of its holder. "I'm going to hold onto this while I run your license, if you don't mind.

You can step back into the car." I got in and shut my door. "So, Mr. Justin, why were you driving so fast?" At this moment, my bull**** dispenser started cranking.

I could afford another ticket, but would rather not deal with an increased insurance rate. I started spitting a line of total BS.

"Well sir, my job doesn't allow me to see my fiance very much. Since this is the first time in forever that I'm going to see her, I'm rushing to her house to pop the question. I apologize for speeding, I'm just so excited to see the look on her face when I ask her to marry me."

"Do you have a ring?" "No sir, can't afford one."

"Ah, poor kid." "I know. Could you do me a favor and write me a ticket? I'd like to look back on this night and laugh about the time I was pulled over and given a ticket the night I was rushing to propose to my wife."

The reason I asked him this is to make my story seem to check out. I'm calling his bluff, if you will.

"Haha, you kids. I'll tell you what-- I'll do you one better. I'll escort you over there through traffic if you're in that much of a rush. Wouldn't that be more of a story?" Damnit.

The guy's caught up in making a Kodak moment when all I want to do is get him off my back and eat tacos with my girlfriend... NOT propose.

I've only known the girl for two months-- not exactly ready for the big commitment yet. "Yes sir, I do believe it would."

After giving him her street name and address, he knew exactly where to go. ****. I got in my car and followed him as his siren rang out. Traffic pulled to the side, peopled yielded at red lights, and cars stopped-- all so I could have tacos with my girlfriend. After getting to her house, the officer stepped out of his car and knocked on her door.

She opened it and stared at him, then me in a look of confusion. "Hi, I pulled this gentleman over a few minutes ago because he was in a rush to get over here so fast. Justin? Would you like to take it from here?"

I looked at Courtney, then the officer, who wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. I tried to take her inside, but the officer stood right there in the doorway to witness the event. The things I'd do to get out of a ticket.

"Courtney... I know I've only known you a short time. But, in that short time ... Will you marry me?" She wouldn't say yes. She's younger than I am and always talked about how she wanted to date a guy forever until making a commitment. '

'YES JUSTIN! I WILL MARRY YOU!"

The officer smiled and clapped as Courtney clamped her arms around my body. The neighbors, who had been wondering why a cop car with its lights on was outside her house cheered. Courtney's parents called me and told me that they were proud that their daughter found such a nice guy. Me?

Well I got out of a ticket. **** you. I'm engaged.

-Sideburns"

http://funny-speeding-tickets.blogspot.com/
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My Book

  • Why?
      Why you ask? Not sure. I've always wanted to write down the randomness I think of, and even more so I would love to see who agrees with me and the other alternatives to my ideas.
  • Because?
      Because you ask? Because I want to know what YOU think! Do you agree? Can you relate? Am I totally off the deep-end? Please, feel free to post your comments and opinions; and, who knows, maybe I'll feature them in the next blog post!
  • Past Thoughts

    • ► 2010 (18)
      • ► June (2)
      • ► March (3)
      • ► February (6)
      • ► January (7)
    • ▼ 2009 (30)
      • ► December (22)
      • ▼ November (8)
        • Chapter 7: In the spirit of Cyber Monday
        • Chapter 6: How I Met Your Mother
        • Chapter 5: The First Step
        • Chapter 4: Some Much Needed Humor
        • Chapter 3: Smart vs. Brilliant
        • Chapter 2: Two Types of People - The Theory
        • Chapter 1: Relationships - The Expiration Date
        • Preface: Introductions.

    Fellow Readers






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