Ur Sure Lookin' Good!

Was the message scribbled onto a piece of paper, plastered against the driver's side window. As I rounded the ridge cut on Interstate 24 going downtown, I found myself Oreo-creamed between two 18-wheelers, which really doesn't bother me. All the trips home to Pennsylvania have broken me of any fear of trucks, over-sized loads, and even roadkill.

So of course I cruised down the hill and around the corner, jammin' all the way. Over the sounds of the radio I heard the blare of a tractor trailer horn, and I'm telling you this man was laying on his horn! I was sure that I hadn't done anything that might illicit an angry horn honking so I looked over to my right to see the driver of this monster 18-wheeler grinning from ear to ear, one hand on the wheel and the other holding up the aforementioned sign! First comes the increased blood flow to my face and then the laughter! I nearly drove off the road. It's gotta be my lucky jeans. . . . .