S'TI NEEB A DOOG YAD...

…at least now that it’s over I can say that, but o man racing down always-dangerous Route 2 through Massachusetts in the torrents of rain issued by Floyd for seven straight hours, wore me out, but: now that it’s past and I’ve pocketed &/or banked a 100 bucks, plus filled the larder etc, well, all is doog, good, no Petes or Kennys crashed into me, not too much road rage on my part, well…a little coming in from Keene where this, ah never mind, I’ll just get all in a snit again, Christ it’s a wonder I don’t have a goddamned heart attack with my unbridled temper, and never mind heart attack – it’s a wonder someone doesn’t pull over and put a round through me as I pass waving the middle finger and spewing forth a volley of the vilest expletives. Now see, you might have been on the receiving end of all that craziness exhibited by me today on the highway and are not having a good time dealing with the all-too fresh memory of that lunatic (ahem) with a magenta-colored face, who was about to burst a handful of capillaries or go into stroke mode as he went screaming past you in a maniacal fury, and so you might not like to read about how my day ended good…since chances are I ruined yours.