Saturday, June 10, 2006

I didn't mean to kill you.

By: Schadenfreude

Dear Pedestrian:

I didn't mean to kill you. I tried to stop, but there just wasn't time. Did nobody ever tell you to look both ways before you cross the street?

I'm sure that phone call you were making was very important to your future romantic/professional/social life, but surely less important than an intact rib cage or uncrushed pelvis; your neck just looks wrong.

Mercifully, your phone seems to have died, too. At least I don't have to listen to the anguished squawks that would be issuing from it if it was still alive.

I'll probably have to pay the deductible for that dent. Maybe I'll just wash it and see what it looks like.


Sincerely,

Schadenfreude


Bonus:

The idea that limitations on free speech are justified by the problems of shouting "Fire!" in a crowded theatre is a failure to attribute the consequences to the real problem: lack of adequate emergency exits, lighting and signage. Whenever someone uses this argument, I automatically think, "Twit".