You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy™
Malicious tire puncture!
Slice, Pop, Hiss.
For the last 6 months someone has been throwing razor-sharp screws and nails across a heavily traveled road.
For the last 6 months, motorists have been getting flat tires.
No one has crashed, or been hurt, but residents are understandably angry.
They are more than angry. They are diametrically opposed to happiness.
Take a happy face, turn it on its head and then kick it in its little scrotum.
Can you say Ouch!
These people are enthusiastically perturbed.
They have come to the Iraqi Voting center of life, purple thumbs extended, and then told their vote does not count.
If Orange is the new black, then anger is the new seething.
These residents are victims, they are the business end of a plunger working a Bonnaroo port-a-john.
A mad hatter of hijinks and dastardly tricks has played a mean prank. He is scattering nails on the road the use. What an act of Bridgestone badness, and firestone fiendishness.
These residents are miffed, muffed, snuffed and pissed. They are the country bumpkin equivalent of Mr Potato head catching Mrs Potato head making sweet potato pie without protection.
Not sure what that means.
“You know how much tires cost?” one man said.
He’s referring to a neighbor who spent $800 dollars.
Another resident reportedly dropped $600.
This old-timer knows how much it costs to patch and fill one puncture hole.
“$7.00,” he says.
The only people who know the cost of a patch and puncture repair are people who have spent a lot of money patching punctures.
One resident tells me that his wife’s car had five nails in the same tire at the same time.
One nail is one nail too many.
Five nails is a sorority party of granny panties in a phone booth.
“It just needs to stop,” she says.
That’s an understatement.
The sheriff’s department tells me that there have been as many as 40 incidents in the last six months to an unknown number of drivers.
Can you imagine?
40 incidents? The road is only a half mile long?
I have had a flat tire. It’s a terrible experience. You are moving along, busy as hell, and then suddenly you are held hostage by the asphalt God’s who desire a certain amount of traction and pressure in each tire.
From cruising down the highway, wind in your hair, tunes in your head, you are one suddenly, abruptly one of those guys on the side of the road.
“Man I feel sorry for that guy,” you say as you drive by.
But now it’s the other cars driving by you. Maybe your car is jacked up. Maybe you are waiting on AAA.
Either way, you are waiting on something, going nowhere fast.
Now imagine 40 incidents on the same 1/2 mile stretch of road in the last 6 months.
40 people having to stop and change 40 flats.
“Who does that?” the senior citizen utters aloud.
A societal cretin does this. A person with no remorse or regard for his fellow-man does this. Someone who gets off watching people handle a jack and roll spare tires from a trunk.
I’d rather someone walk up to me and say, “I hate your face,” and then punch me in the jaw.
I’d rather drive to Vancouver in a closed car with baby skunks.
I’d rather wear a pink ascott at a Biker convention.
I hate changing tires. It’s usually 98 degrees, or 21 degrees or raining.
There’s never a good time to change a flat.
Beside the inconvenience, there is the safety concern.
You’re driving along at sixty and suddenly more screws than this side of Noah’s Ark implant into your sidewall.
Tires are tough, but how tough?
Are they made to blow out and survive 6 razor-sharp screws? What if it’s raining? What if it’s dark?
The sheriff’s department say the screw head dropping the screws is going to get nailed for dropping the nails.
I personally hope they nail the guy to the cross and then screw him in the trunk.
Maybe they could tie him to a rock and roll flat tires down a hill into his naked torso.
Throwing nails in the road is evil. It’s a bad idea, like Congress telling me how to raise my family.
Hopefully they find this country miscreant before someone gets hurt.
Life’s Crazy™