One o'dem dayz
I love days when it rains and stays dark pretty dark outside. That is until I realize that it's Thursday, 8am and I need to be at work at nine. That's when I pull out all of the stops and rush to shower, neglecting the cleansing of my hair and asshole. I just take another shower when I get home.

When I oversleep it's like cutting my sack while shaving my balls. It throws off the rest of my day and I bleed in the crotch area. Luckily, I knitted these really cool gauze underwear for just such occasions and I heal like Wolverine.

This is a story about a sea otter. Otto the loveable sea otter. Wait a minute. No it's not.

This is about me getting pulled over on my way to work.

I hop in my car at about half past eight, which meant that the half hour drive wouldn't permit me time to stop for coffee and a breakfast sandwich. Wawa is heaven and their staff of barely intelligible personnel is its choir of angels. Alas, Wawa would not be in the itinerary this morning.

I drive at reasonable speeds for the most part, but when running late I tend to speed up a bit. Nothing outrageous, I just increase my average speed of 65mph to about 72mph. Cruise control set and away I go.

I also pick my nose when in my car if I don't have a tissue. I don't wipe it on the seats or anything like that. I crack the window a bit and flick my prize out the window. This has gotten me many a disgusted look over the years. I don't care. If a stalactite is jutting outwards in my nasal cavity and I can feel the root tickling my brain, I will harvest it and flick it out the window.

I am going to bring it all together. Don't worry.

I guess that on rainy, foggy mornings, there are certain factors that need to be taken into account when speeding. One, it's slick and dangerous. I have all-terrain tires on my truck and it does well in the rain, so no worries there. Two, you have limited vision due to fog. This factor should have been adhered to as I did not see one of Maryland's finest in my rearview. Three, you shouldn't speed when you cannot see Johnny Law.

He wasn't riding on my butt and I wasn't going that fast. I didn't notice him. I think that was because my finger was so far up my nose, that I may have pinched my optic nerve. I am still seeing things a bit blurry.

I don't think that he would have pulled my over for speeding, necessarily. People were passing me and I was in the middle lane. I guess that when he moved up to pass me was when the detainable offense occurred.

I was knuckle deep. I have had a bit of a cold. The air is very dry in my house. Thinking that I was grasping a crispy booglet, I pulled with all of my might, unsheathing the most unholy of all boogers. The camo-booger. Disguising itself as a crispy, you think that your ordeal will be wiped clean with a breeze. No chance for this hearty, slimy fuck. These kinds of boogers can tap into your memory.

Pre-occupied, I cracked the window to prepare for my ordeal, unaware of the police officer behind me, about to move to my left. It took four hard flicks and on the fourth, as my finger reached full-force extension, I saw what was about to occur. That cop was going to get a windshield full of booger. Things happened in bullet time.

I saw in my side mirror as the officer's face went from paying attention to the road, to paying attention to his windshield, then to paying attention to me. He slowed and turned on his lights. He thought that I did it on purpose. Thoughts of fleeing this embarrassing situation filled my mind. What the fuck was I supposed to say?!

I pulled over.

He approached my truck and asked a question that I will never understand.

"Do you know why I pulled you over?" he asked.

Struggling for the correct answer, I said, "I uh know uh I was speeding, sir but I was uh running..."

He cut me off, "You flicked a booger on my cruiser. Any particular reason you would do that to a police officer?"

I managed to stammer these words, "The fog, I couldn't see, I pick and drive, when no tissue..."

I cannot remember what I said. He asked for license and registration, went back to his car and began writing what I thought was a dissertation on the effects of a booger ridden police cruiser. He came back with his little hat condom on.

"Here's a ticket for doing 71 in a 55, please sign at the bottom. It's a $170 fine or you can show up to court. If you decide to go to court, you can bet that I'll be there. You may want to buy some Kleenex and grow up a bit. Have a nice day."

Fucking cops. How can he insinuate that I'm immature because I pick my nose? Everyone does. That's why a person's fingers perfectly fit into their own nostrils.