Things that suck

"Watch your speed coming home," my Sweetie warned me today. "They're cracking down on speeding on I-95."

They're always cracking down on speeding on I-95, those blue-siren vampires. Always zinging someone who is keeping to himself, no danger to anyone, while the jackrabbits and lane-weavers keep right on their joyful journey of jerk-fullness.

Where were these fine officers this morning when a big truck loaded with scrap crap was hogging the left lane {ILLEGAL!!!), firing debris like bullets across all three lanes of traffic? (UNSECURED LOAD -- ILLEGAL!!!)

Sure enough, even though I stayed as far behind the scofflaw trucker as possible, a good-sized chunk bounced off the roof of my car and scratched right through the paint. I'm just lucky it didn't traject lower and shatter my windshield.

I was so sorely tempted to do what my little brother does when truckers -- and it's just a certain small number of them, I know -- piss him off. He swings in front of them at the first available opportunity and slows waaayy down for a minute or two, which really annoys them.

I really, really considered it. But it wouldn't have done any good. And I would probably have gotten a ticket for obstructing the moron's passage.