There are some dangerous intersections in our neighborhood, where trucks come barreling through after the light turns red. This morning, Kelly and I were waiting at the light when she dropped her sunglasses. "Fuck beans," she muttered, unbuckling her seat belt and leaning forward just as the light turned green. With trepidation, I glanced both ways, then rolled forward and coasted through the intersection, reaching the other side safely. When she buckled up again and I breathed a sigh of relief, she asked me what was the matter. I told her I had a terrible vision that we would be hit by a truck and her last words on this Earth would be "fuck beans."


One Reply to Crash

Justin Conner | September 12, 2009
Thats Hillarious, I can just picture that whole event.


Logical Operator

The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »

R.I.P. Katie

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Blood Lines

A few weeks ago, I dropped a glass bottle of salad dressing on the kitchen floor, making the house smell like vinaigrette for a day. Today, I stepped on the last errant bit of glass hiding in a crack of tile by the corner. Better my foot than the cat's paw, I guess; I don't lick between my toes. Go »

Mac Killed My Inner Child

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Amazon Appreciation

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De-Gifting

I'd like to think I'm getting better at white elephant games since I play them every December, but evidence proves otherwise: After losing out on a crock pot, a board game, a video game, a sushi kit, a yoga mat, and a nightrobe, I finally took home a Z-grade zombie movie on DVD, and a Ben Franklin t-shirt. Woo! On the other hand, I scored a quesadilla maker at another party that has been pretty good so far. Go »

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