|View single post by medicboymatt|
|Posted: Mon Mar 19th, 2007 09:26 pm||
|All this talk of yummy food is disturbing; indeed, it is cruel and unusual punishment, as my dear personal physician, the esteemed Doctor Professor Christine, has recently said that Matthew must element tasty food from his diet.
Let me redirect us back to the idea of the Southern Gentleman. Nobody has been able to define this creature. I think that perhaps this is a situation similar to the definition of pornography. According to the US Supreme Court, you might not be able to define it, but you'll know it when you see it. A friend just sent me this anecdote. I think I see a Southern Gentleman in it!
From the state where drunk driving is considered a sport, comes this true story.
Recently a routine police patrol parked outside a bar in Kinston, North Carolina. After last call the officer noticed a man leaving the bar so apparently intoxicated that he could barely walk.
The man stumbled around the parking lot for a few minutes,
with the officer quietly observing.
After what seemed an eternity in which he tried his keys on five different vehicles,
the man managed to find his car and fall into it.
He sat there for a few minutes as a number of other patrons left the bar and drove off.
Finally he started the car, switched the wipers on and off--it was a fine, dry summer night--, flicked the blinkers on and off a couple of times, honked the horn and then switched on the lights.
He moved the vehicle forward a few inches, reversed a little and then remained still for a few more minutes as some more of the other patrons' vehicles left.
At last, when his was the only car left in the parking lot, he pulled out and drove slowly down the road.
The police officer, having waited patiently all this time, now started up his patrol car, put on the flashing lights, promptly pulled the man over and administered a breathalyzer test. To his amazement, the breathalyzer indicated no evidence
that the man had consumed any alcohol at all!
Dumbfounded, the officer said, "I'll have to ask you to accompany me to the police station. This breathalyzer equipment must be broken."
"I doubt it," said the truly proud Redneck.
"Tonight I'm the designated decoy."