Here I sit rideless with my thumb up my ass, tried to drive to the gym and ended up with a deer fallin on top of me and a head full of glass. Allow me to elaborate: Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, roughly 4:30 in the P.M. I was cruisin over to the gym for some preemptive turkey calorie burning…For the locals reading I will note that I was traveling down 92 heading towards Foster City. In the corner of my eye I spotted a long deer tryin to pull a frogger across 4 lanes of near rush hour traffic at which moment a sudden seizure of respiratory action took place. All I could do was watch the poor guy get past 2.5 lanes and the center divide before a SUV hit him at full speed sending him airborne with a downward trajectory aimed right at me, I down shifted hard and braked swerving into the shoulder closing my eyelids tight anticipating a forceful impact. It came. I fumbled my phone out of my pocket and dialed 911 and with that I was notified that “Currently all emergency operators are helping others and to stay on the line”… (ya kthxbye) I opened my eyes and immediately became overwhelmed with the amount of glass and deer hair that had lodged itself in every conceivable nook and cranny of my former vehicle.
I stepped out of the car, a bit shaken to say the least and went over to the deer which was very still but still writhing in pain. I said my words and made my peace with him right before a member of San Mateo’s finest put 2 in the peaceful creatures cranium. I’ve always a longstanding appreciation for deer and having one shatter my windshield, put a whole in my hood, and dent both front panels makes me think no less upon the species. I am very sorry for the deer and very lucky that Highway Crew didn’t have venison and white irish meat to clean up.
Aftermath: Engine saw no damage and remains the most valuable asset to the car itself with barely 82,000 original miles on a 13 year old car. With the windshield gone you could almost call it a fucked up convertible of sorts with a built in glass propelling heating system.
I got checked out by the Firefighters / EMT’s and suffered only mildshock and a new glassy finish from head to wiener. My pops extracted enough glass from my scalp to blow a god damn shotglass but sadly I received no scars I could invoke pity lays with :(. FTL overall. FTL
As men, we abide by a unwritten, informal code. This code dictates ethics, morals, and actions. Amendments can always be made to this code in accordance with the times and social climate. In the neolithic era, it went against the man code to borrow a fellow man’s polished stone instruments without asking, and when borrowed, they were to be promptly returned following the archaic task. What I share with you now are the contemporary, practical applications of the Man Laws and how they can be used and followed today.
- Thou Shall Not avenge any wrongdoing of another by damaging his vehicle. i.e. Keying, denting, slashing etc.
- Thou Shall Obey the “shotgun” rule within reason. The exception to the rule : if said company stands 6’4″ or taller the front seat shall be reserved with appropriate legroom granted.
- Tickling is never permitted.
- Thou shall not speak “ouch” as an exclamation of pain.
- Whoever smelt it hath delt it.
- If thoust has committed to an act thou must carry it out unto completion. i.e. Designated drivers, and the act of urination.
- The duration of a handshake must never exceed the time it takes to say “anal penetration”
- He who does not kick down for given meal is to be granted ONE exception in which he can dine with his endowed brethren, however once used the tightwad is to be ostracized from the dining scenario.
- Gas money is never to be expected if the ride in question was offered.
- The level of manliness is to be gauged by the amount of hair on the ass.
It’s damn near dusk on a weeknight, nine hours of class and work powered through, Randy gives a call on the ‘ol mobile and proposes a nice little jog for ‘ol times sake. I happily oblige, and pick out the popular local trail. I can’t run on an empty stomach so I down a water bottle and a handful of beef jerky for good measure beforehand. I drive us over and we lace up and begin our lovely little prance down the initial straightaway, goin at a steady trot-waddle. As we see and pass each half mile marker the sky gets darker and darker and we get further and further from the bathroom at the start. The days worth of liquid consumption was starting to catch up to me and my piss gun was rather loaded… It was damn near black out, and aside from the possible presence of mountain lions, rattle snakes, and deranged serial killers lurking in the vast brush that surrounded us, Randy and I were pretty much alone. I paused from my vigorous running to drain my lizard right there on the side of the trail, allowing mother earth to reclaim my urine.. Now keep in mind I was wearing a somewhat long wife beater and gym shorts throughout this little run.. As I let my peck flop out and great the night sky, going into auto pilot and not using my hands (a skill I have perfected over the years), I let it flow.. What I did then was something senior citizens fear and toddlers take for granted, I did not hear the satisfying echo effect of my piss juice hitting the gravel, nor the dirt. No, what I felt was more of a warm damp sensation slowly spreading across the bottom of my shirt, and ya know once you start you cant stop, so I pretty much stripped away all hope for that shirt ever being white again, not to mention cover myself in my own piss throughout the process. Yeh so the run back to the car was a damp one, Randy almost choked on his tongue laughing, I hope no one important reads this post, but I jus feel everyone else should know that I pissed myself. kthxbye. R.I.P. shirt.