The Dapper Lad

We’ve lived in California for… oh… about 6 years now. We just got our first speeding ticket. And to be honest, we’re pretty pissed about it.

Don’t get us wrong — we were speeding. We fully admit that. Hell, we speed everywhere we go in California. In fact, we pretty much drive 85-90 MPH anytime we get on the freeways, traffic permitting. We dart in and out of lanes like we’re on the Indy Motor Speedway. Yeah, that’s right. We’re that asshole. But hey, that’s how you drive here in California.

Rather, what we’re pissed about is the fact that the speeding ticket was for a paltry 78 MPH in a 65 zone. WTF?! Seriously. That’s like Al Capone getting nicked on tax evasion. C’mon. If we’re going to get a ticket,make it worth our while. None of this ticky tacky 78 BS.

But, we can’t complain. As we see it (in a morbid way), getting a speeding ticket is like getting cancer. When it’s your time… it’s your time. It’s a frickin crapshoot. For 6 years we’ve driven everywhere at 85-90. It was just our turn to get caught. We like to think of our speeding ticket as paying $160 for the privilege to drive as fast as we wanted for the past 6 years. That works out pretty well we think.

Besides, here in Cali, you get to go to traffic school if you haven’t had an infraction in the last 18 months– and that keeps it off of your driver’s record.

The weird thing about the whole transaction was how business like it was. We got pulled over by a motorcycle cop. And for those of you who don’t know — motorcycle cops are like meter maids for highways. Forget all that CHiPs stuff. A real highway motorcycle cop’s sole purpose is to hand out speeding tickets.

Our transaction didn’t have any of that, “Do you know how fast you were going,” sort of banter. It was very cold and mechanical. Hell, that motorcycle cop might as well have been a robot handing out cheeseburgers. That’s how impersonal it felt.

Our brother the police officer noted that if you get pulled over by a city cop in a patrol car… unless you were driving like an ass, or acting like an ass when he comes to the window… you can talk your way out of those kinds of incidents. Not so with motorcycle cops. But the officer in a patrol car doesn’t want to deal with paperwork and tickets and showing up in court, and all that hassle.

Our cop brother suggested, “When people tell me, ‘Hey, I know I was speeding, you caught me, I fucked up,” then he’s more likely to let it slide with a warning. But the people who try to protest or say, “Everyone else was speeding–” his retort is, “But I didn’t catch them, I caught you.” Goes back to our concept of — hey, nothing personal. Everyone speeds. We all know it. Sometimes the roulette ball falls in your favor, and sometimes it doesn’t.

This time, we landed on 00.

Wanna have some fun?

First read this: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deductive_reasoning

Then watch this: http://www.cnn.com/2008/POLITICS/07/16/911.billboard/#cnnSTCVideo

This is what 3 hours at dinner with some of our relatives is like.

Finally, all of dswidler’s prayers have been answered:

Hypercolor is back, baby!

This is gonna be so awesome, all of the 90’s trends are gonna be cool again!  Now, where did we put our Fresh Prince of Bel Air jacket?

They are going to be selling exactly the same iPhone tomorrow. I can almost guarantee that you have something better to do than to wait in line for an iPhone. If you don’t, please go examine your life. Can we get a “your meaningless lives” tag?

Last year fireworks in San Francisco looked like this:

This year they looked like this:

Clearly, God sent fog to ruin our fireworks because he’s pissed about gay marriage. God can be such a jerk.

We got our 4th of July costume figured out.  It wasn’t made in America.  Irony!  Fuck yeah!