dantaylortalks

and talks and talks and talks and talks and talksand talksand talksand talksand talksand talksand talksand talksand talksand talksand talksand talksand talks

The world is not a cold, dead place...

This story has a happy ending.

Wednesday was a snowy blustery day in Edmonton. The roads were slippery (or slippy, if there happen to be any Islanders reading) I was taking the kids home from school and as I turned onto our street time slowed down and these were my thoughts:

That car is parked way to close to curb.

I need to stop

I shouldn't have hit the brakes that hard.

I'm going to hit that Chrysler 300

Oh, that car has already been hit in the exact spot I'm about to hit it.

Remember when the Chrysler 300 was cool? What was going on there? I mean 50 Cent was bragging about how rich he was while driving a mediocre domestic sedan. That's like trying to floss in the 80's while driving a Buick Regal. In 5 years the only thing that car will good for is demolition derbys.

I wonder if the kids will notice we're hitting this car.

And ... We're hitting the car.

(To be continued)

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