Thursday, August 23, 2007

I now know my last words

And they are "Oh shit," which is what I said this evening in rush hour traffic on the 405 as a giant metal pipe flew straight toward my windshield and cracked it. It was so loud and so scary that my jaw remained dropped for fifteen minutes afterward as I tried to figure out what happened.

Jim and I have a habit of reciting scary shit we've seen on the 405: cars on fire, porn playing on TVs inside cars (visible at night), reading of the newspaper and books, all sorts of amorous activity, and stuff flying across the road (fence posts, 2 x 6s, gates, mattresses, dining room chairs, small appliances, and, of course, stoves). I suppose statistically speaking I was bound to have to take one for the team. But oh shit. And thank whoever invented shatterproof glass. I think you might have saved my life.