Yes, a car. And I wasn’t in another car. I was running.
And before all you haters say that I’m telling this story to brag about my incredibly fit body, go fuck yourselves. Anyways, now that we have that out of the way, let’s move on.
I was running on the sidewalk along a main street in Grosse Pointe Woods called Mack at -- might I add -- quite a brisk pace. While crossing a side-street where cars have a stop sign to observe potential pedestrians walking across, I noticed a car rolling through said stop sign out of the corner of my left eye.
It actually was moving quite well, and as it hit my left leg, I jumped in the air, rolled on the hood up to the windshield, then rolled back off, landing on my feet.
Mostly, I was worried about the iPod and nerdy, GPS running watch, both of which were fine.
For some reason, I laughed, turned to a woman who was completely horrified, said I was ok, and kept on running.
Two blocks later, I was all, holy shit, I just got hit by a car. I suppose she should’ve followed me to see if I was ok, but whatevs.
But, in reviewing this moment in Dave history, I really thought this was a pure, Are You Effing Kidding Me?
I went to get the mail on Tuesday, and was all bill, bill, bill, bill, jury duty summons, bill, bill, FUCK. What? Seriously, Wayne County, please come to my house and kiss my ass. This is the fourth jury duty summons in five years for me for a Circuit Court case -- which by the way, is not small time shit. Last time I was on a case, WHICH WAS LAST YEAR, we found some dude guilty and he’s all serving like 15 years.
I really screwed myself back in 2000. My friend Tommy told me he got jury duty things all the time. I replied with some snotty, “Haha. You suck. I’m so lucky I probably will never get one of those.”/p>
Fast Forward. I can’t ever get out of them either. I think I’m like the perfect person to sit on the jury. What they don’t know is that I sit there and get pissed that I’m actually there and not at work, or doing something productive, like raking my leaves. But raking leaves is lame, and I can make up excuses left and right to get out of that, like going to Lowe’s to get light bulbs.
But seriously, jury duty again. Are You Effing Kidding Me?
People that say that 30 is the new 21. That your thirties are the best years of your life. Are You Effing Kidding Me? I can’t hold my alcohol like I used to, throw a baseball slower than I used to, look older than I used to and have begun to enjoy shows like Grey’s Anatomy and Project Runway. I guess you become less cool as you get older.
At least I still watch Flavor of Love. New York! You’s crazy. DeeLishis! Represent!
Flava Flav. Did anyone know that this guy has grandchildren? Are You Effing Kidding Me? He's like 45 years old. And I think I would seriously pay cash money to see what his teeth look like behind that grill. Does he have normal teeth? Does he have teeth? And, for those that watch, does they way he eat gross you out, too?