
On occasion, I have the privilege of following a Toyota pickup truck (mostly on hills, or in a no passing zones), and I'm amazed at the puny lil' differential living underneath that anemic truck wanabe.
Then, as the tired ol' 460 under the hood growls, and I gently ease it into 5th...……….I glance at the driver as I sail by.
Limp wrists. Coke bottle eyeglasses. Faraway intellectual fuzzy look in the eyes. And if'n it's a redneck......I just sigh...….knowing it's a genetic defect.....something about cousins I believe.
