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Ostomy Memories of Traffic Court


AN OLD MAN WITH NOTHING TO DO could spend an amusing morning in traffic court.  People who go to the trouble to contest their traffic tickets often have no idea what they’re doing, feel they’ve been victims of selective enforcement, have no viable defense, or a combination thereof.  A speeding ticket, for example, is essentially impossible to beat, since the officer that gave the ticket typically based it on his proven reliable speed measuring device and other evidentiary factors, such as watching the ticketed driver passing other vehicles.  Running a stop sign is as easy to spot for a traffic cop as the boot at the end of his leg.  Yet people still contest these things.  “But I slowed down,” pleads the driver, “and didn’t see any traffic coming.”  Replies the cop:  “The sign says STOP, sir.”  “There’s no difference,” argues the driver, “between slowing down and stopping.”  At that point, the cop orders the guy out of the car.  The guy begrudgingly gets out.  The cop takes his baton and begins to beat the hell out of the driver with it.  WHACK, WHACK, WHACK!  The guy is yelling his head off.  The cop hits him two or three more times.  “Now, sir,” asks the cop, “do you want me to stop, or just slow down?”  

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😂 I like that type of thinking. 

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