Joke for a Sunday

I've done more driving in the past three months than I had in the past ten years. In honor of my trusty 95 Saturn SL and my not-all-that-missed 2000 Dodge Intrepid -- O.J. will resume looking for the real thieves once his business in Las Vegas is settled -- here's a bit of a bit from my old act.

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I was out on 64 today. Lot of construction. Just orange cones as far as the eye could see. No crews, or course, just a cone parade to nowhere.

Still, I get pulled over. Apparently the whole thing was not a slalom course set up for my enjoyment.

I do like driving on the interstate, though. It gives me a chance to enjoy one of my favorite experiences -- the invented coincidence. You know, like when you're on I-64, and you look down and realize you're going 64. That's cool.

And you know when I'm up around D.C., I'm trying to pul 95 on 95. Out west, 81 on 81. Man, I'm a demon on 264.

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Thank you. Thank you. Try the fish. Tip your waitresses and bartenders. And, yes, I do plan to keep my day job, thank you very much.

Also, totally seriously, pay attention in the early morning and early afternoon of June 7th this year. Twice that day, the time and date will be exactly 1:23.45 6/7/8.