Speed Limit

There is going to be some major speed adjusting to do. I had better start practicing now. Mule Town's speed limit is 25mph. On every single street. In Fresno, the lowest speed limit on the major streets is 40mph. And of course I go at least 50mph because 40mph just isn't fast enough when you're trying to get one block from your house to fill up your car with gas so you can drive another block at 50mph to grab fast food.

Also, Mule Town has these quaint little cross walks about every four feet down the middle of Main Street so pedestrians can blindly walk into traffic and sue whoever hits them because there are clearly crosswalks painted for pedestrians to never have to use common sense or decency again because they're in a small town and who gives a shit about the folk who have to stop for you to buy a fucking loaf of cheese bread from the bakery that everyone just HAS to stop at because it looks old-timey and cute??.... Uh... I forget what I was saying...

Oh yes, I was saying that it will take some habit breaking and will power on my part to not race through the streets of Mule Town and hit pedestrians who are incapable of looking both ways and who are so damn impatient to buy a fucking loaf of cheese bread from the cute little bakery with the carousal out front that their spoiled little kids can ride on while simultaneously getting fat from eating cheese bread and cinnamon rolls from the cute little bakery that they jaywalked to get to and they failed to see me coming down the street so I have to slam on my brakes and try not to get sued because I'm broke and that's why I'm moving home with my mom in the first place.... Damn... I can't stay focused today...

I kind of want some cheese bread from that cute little bakery. I can't wait to walk over there and grab some in a couple weeks.

Bee-dee-lee-lee-lee-lee-lee...

I hear the sound of a distant banjo being plucked away at... I turn on the dirt path and see an old dilapidated house with a quaint front porch and a little freckled boy who may or may not be a burn victim. He's got a banjo and a look of deep seeded hatred about him.

Bee-dee-lee-lee-lee-lee-lee...

Weird... I've never heard a banjo sound like impending death before...

I walk up to the little boy and ask him if he knows any Zepplin. He just stares and plucks away at the same ominous tune.

Bee-dee-lee-lee-lee-lee... LEE!

And then I wake up and realize moving day is now only nine days away.... bee-dee-lee-lee-lee-lee-wtf.