FML

I have to transfer a car title. That means that at least one weekday I will have to be in Memphis so that I can go to the DMV and get a new title and tag. As long as I'm going to have to do this, I'm thinking of applying for a personalized tag that says "FML" - I wonder if they'll give it to me? You have to list 3 options in case your first choice isn't available. I'm thinking of listing the following -
1) FML
2) OMG FML
3) WTF FML


Monday I was in my pump class, sweating like a pig, huffing like an ashmatic rhinosaurus, and clogged with snot by my stupid allergies, while all around me hot women were huffing and puffing, too, but oddly never sweating. My sinuses were clogged to the point of being useless, which meant that I had to stop and put my weights down so I could blow my nose. I hate blowing my nose in class. People always look at me like I'm the Elephant Man. But if I don't do it then I can't breathe, so I have no choice. But this being me, of course, it all went horribly wrong.

I blew my nose as quickly and quietly as I could, wiping the disgustingness off my face and stuffing the handkerchief back into the pocket of my workout shorts - yes, I have to wear shorts with pockets, which makes me look freaky. I thought I had done a pretty good job of it, all things considered. But then I thought I heard the sound of a group of females going "eeeewwwwwww." It may have been imagined or it may have been real, I don't know, but I quickly wiped my face with my hand to make sure nothing disgusting was hanging out of my nose or anything. My face was clean. Then I looked down at my shirt. There was a big nasty booger on my chest that had somehow exploded past the handkerchief and escaped. I was a walking, sweating, panting, pumping, nasty human booger. Awesome. FML


Tuesday, as I was driving to lunch, I noticed a police car in a side parking lot driving like a maniac through the lot and heading towards the road with his blue lights flashing. I was in a group of cars all going the same speed. None of us were doing anything unusual, smoking pot, shooting at each other, surfing on the hoods of our vehicles, or driving naked. The cop skidded out onto the road and came up behind me. I pulled over, nearly running up a curb in the process, and he pulled in behind me. WTF?

He got out and came up to my window, demanding to see not only my license, but also my proof of insurance and registration, which no veteran cop ever does anymore, so I knew he was a rookie. I had to dig through piles of papers in my truck to find all that crap because NO ONE EVER ASKS FOR IT. He took my license and insurance card and told me if I find my registration to bring it back to his car. Great, if he were just going to yell at me he wouldn't be taking my license to his car to sit down.

I dug out every receipt I had received in the last 2 years, every old, expired insurance card, and 3 years worth of old registration documents before I found this year's. I took it to him. He said I was doing 55 in a 40 zone. I said, "no, I wasn't." He just looked at me. I went back to my truck. I'm old enough to know what a waste of time it is to argue with a cop about much of anything. Tell it to the judge isn't just something TV cops enjoy saying because it sounds coplike. It's just how it is.

He came to my window and handed me a ticket. He said if I wanted to do traffic school I'd have to appear in court and ask the judge. Oh really? And pay the court costs, too, right? I see how this works. I took the ticket and watched him drive away. Then I read the ticket. According to him, I am 5'6" and weigh 160 lbs. I was also born in december of 1959 and my social security number is 518-86-7048. The fuck? Whose ticket is this?!

So I'm thinking he pulled someone else over and started to write them a ticket, but something persuaded him to stop mid-ticket and let them go, at which point he needed someone else to slap it on since every ticket has to be accounted for. And he chose me. 5'6" sounds like a girl. So maybe he pulled over an ex-girlfriend or a hooker and she gave him a blowjob to get out of it? But wait, 5'6" and 160 lbs - I think not. Not unless he was desperate for that blowjob. Maybe he pulled over his own mother? He pulled over his own mother and started to write her up. But she threatened to kick him out of the house if he did, so he stopped and let her go. Yeah, that sounds about right. And then he gave her ticket to me because SOMEONE has to pay this thing. FML


My post from the other day was totally fucked up, and it's all my fault. I've done "Wordless Wednesday" before and I know how it works. You post a photo and no words. Well, I had meant to crop out all the words from that photo and simply post the wordless picture, as you are supposed to do. But I've been stressed and busy. I forgot. I posted a wordy photo for Wordless Wednesday, which is just unbelievably stupid. FML


Tuesday after work, as I was pulling out of the parking lot in the pouring rain, the DJ on the radio was giving a traffic report. The DJ was informing us that we were under a flood warning, which I could clearly see for myself as everything around me was underwater. The DJ then said that a cop was stuck in the median on the very same road where I had gotten my ticket earlier that day. Witnesses had called to say that his blue lights were flashing and he was spinning his tires in the mud, sinking deeper and deeper. I wondered, could it be the same cop who gave me a ticket meant for his own mother earlier that day? As I drove past, I looked and saw him. Indeed it was the same cop, and he was in a ditch filling with water, looking rather angry at his predicament, and as stuck as he could be. I imagined I could hear him saying, as I drove out of sight, "FML"



Speaking of fucked lives:

You have read this article boogers / fml / gym / personal humiliation with the title FML. You can bookmark this page URL https://thebohemianbunny.blogspot.com/2011/03/fml.html. Thanks!