Collide

Collide:(v) to hit with force when moving

I lied like a rug, therefore I assume my feet stunk.

I have no witnesses to the odor, just as there really were no “Amen-ers” to my testimony (which was really a lie).

Taking my old beat-up van onto the road, I was not entering the freeway with safety and concern.

The gentleman who was already driving on the freeway, probably using his cruise control, made the foolish assumption that I was going to honor his position,
perhaps coming in behind him.

I was yearning for something a bit more intimate.

So I smacked him in the side. Being very young, I decided to collide. So I smacked him in the side.

He was an older gentleman–perhaps in his late sixties or early seventies. He was so upset by the collision, and also how quickly the highway patrolman arrived at the scene, that I was able to come up with the story for the accident, which left him dumbfounded, bereft.

I explained to the policeman that I was already in the lane and that this gentleman came across and hit me.

The facts didn’t measure up, and if the cop had been any kind of investigative sort whatsoever he would have challenged me.

But since the older gent stood there slack-jawed, with bulging eyes, he looked horribly guilty. I, on the other hand, did my very best Shakespearean rendition, portraying much of the hurt and pain of Prince Hamlet of Denmark.

So not only was I deemed free from responsibility for the accident, but the ancient dude got a ticket.

I ended up getting a check for $450 from his insurance company to repair my van, which I chose not to do, since any part on my van I repaired would have been yelled at by the other parts, which were more terminally ill.

I so enjoyed my $450–and as far as I know, the innocent gentleman I hit went to court and spent even more money to cover the expanse of my lie.

Now, I know at this point we need a moral to the story. For instance, later on I saw the gentleman and paid him back, or I drove all night to the highway patrol station and confessed my misadventure.

None of this happened.

So I guess the true lesson from this story is, you should do things because they’re right–not because you’re expecting a payoff. And if you get a payoff, it certainly does not mean that it’s right.

“What goes around comes around.”

It doesn’t always come around your way.

Or go around, for that matter.

 

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Bonkers

Bonkers: (adj) mad; crazy.

Even though the word “bonkers” is often used as a gentle or even comical way of describing an errant idea or philosophy, we sometimes fail to realize that there’sDictionary B actually something in life that is bonkers.

Fortunately for us humans, it’s only a singular trespass, yet we continue to pursue it like it’s toilet paper attached to our shoe.

Here it is simply stated: “I think I can get by with this.”

It certainly is displayed in all of its glory when you’re cruising down the freeway and the speed limit is 70 miles per hour, and you set your cruise control to that number, only to discover that everybody flies by you–until suddenly each one observes a highway patrol car perched on the side of the road. Then what follows is a universal slamming on the brakes, which nearly generates a fifteen-car pileup.

Why?

Because we’ve convinced ourselves “we can get by with it.”

Both of the people currently running for president are convinced that if they deny their sins, foibles and missteps, they just might be able to fool the fools.

It’s ludicrous, since everybody on the planet is an investigative reporter, trying to catch me in my crimes–and I, alone, am my alibi witness.

Sooner or later, to keep from being bonkers, we have to realize that 1 must be called 1, and 2 must be called 2–or we will be called down when things don’t add up.

 

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