Something's up with the electricity in our car. Several weeks ago, a driver flashed her lights at me and let me know that our brake lights weren't working, so I pulled over, and Lisa checked. But they were working just fine. Strange. Over the next few days, we checked again but they seemed to be working fine. But then I took the car into the mechanics for an unrelated problem, and they mentioned the brake lights not working, too. After I got the car home, I noted the brake light thing on the sales slip, checked the car, and, lo, no probem.  

So yesterday, I was driving home from an area co-op, and a cop started following me. I couldn't tell if if he was really following me, or if he just happened to be going the same way I was going, but I didn't like it very much either way. Fearing that my Brake Gremlin would rear its pimply head with a broed cop staring right at the ass of my car, I decided to come up slowly on every red light and stop sign, as if coasting. See, Mr Officer? Heh heh heh heh! No need for brakes really! Just coasting! The strategy seemed to work, until, finally, we both came up over a hill, and he pulsed his siren and flipped on his lights. 

Now I try not to use my psychic powers for self-gratificiation, but I decided it was time to pull out the stops, since a ticket right now could mean not feeding my children for two months. So I bent the universe to my will whispering: Oh god no! No! No! God! No! Oh Sweet god no!, don' t gimme a ticket! God! Oh god! as I pulled over. The cop stopped in the middle of the street behind me. 

And then, he started speeding away in reverse. Away from me. Up and over the hill we'd both just driven over. And out of sight in my rear view mirror.



I demand tributes from all the nations of the earth by dawn.