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Today, my uncle drove to my house in his tractor, beer in one hand, and a radio strapped to the dash blasting country music at unimaginable volume. Neither of us live on a farm. Half the neighborhood stood angrily glaring at us until we went inside. FML
Today, I was torn from my car and slammed against the hood because a canister of window-cleaning wipes I keep in my glove compartment apparently looks vaguely like a pipe-bomb. My lawyer agreed with the cops, and won't handle the "excessive force" case I threatened the police with. FML
Thursday 23 April 2015