The two people in this picture remind me perfectly of two teenagers in the neighborhood who fly down the dirt road every day, the wind blowing in their hair as they blissfully scream down the dirt road. In this case, the driver of the car has a first name that is like “Shooter.” The passenger has a last name like “Purchases.” Think about it….you’ll know who I’m talking about before long.
So last night I was just getting home when I looked down the dirt road to see a car fishtailing, kicking up a huge dust cloud behind it. As customary, I put on my meanest face, puffed out my chest and walked just out into the road. As they flew by, I yelled out, “hey, there are kids that play on this street.” One of the boys climbed halfway out the window and yelled back something inaudible followed by “….so F&%$ you.” By the way, it was a beat up brownish car full of teenage boys. If any of you know who they are or whose house they came to visit, please let me know. I have three rolls of plastic wrap, four cases of eggs, three shovels of german shorthair landmines and a mind for revenge.
I plan to spending the entire weekend in a lawn chair on my sidewalk with a bucket full of water balloons. Warn your teenage drivers and, in some cases, yourself. I’m talking to you Anita, hahaha.
