Don't do that in Florida!

Funny, it's the cars with Florida license plates that are doing that here in New York!  Lately, there are two kinds of drivers, the once the creep along under the limit and the NASCAR drivers weaving in and out of traffic with barely enough room to pass.  I have come to hate driving here.

It's is a traffic violation here.  $121.00 ticket.

On certain highways, there's a minimum speed but I'm not sure if it's a violation worthy of a ticket.  It should be.  Frankly, if you can't drive at least 40 mph, you don't belong on a highway.

The last time I noticed a minimum speed sign it was 50 mph but I don't remember where in the country I was.

That 40 minimum is on a stretch of highway where the speed limit is 50 or 55.  

I didn't...I used a question mark, smarty-pants.

Zombie cows.

[  Wow, thanks for that, Element 99!  :)  ]

Ah, snack chips.

I recall one time when I was about my lawful doings in the Southern Highlands, along the Hegigio River. The indigenous people there have a way about them that puts to shame the more civilized practice of grabbing whatever you can get away with from someone else. Down there, there is no communal property rule, except that the well-being of the tribe is paramount, and that includes a total absence of ill-will within the tribe such as is unheard of, if not impossible, in western society. But there, if something isn’t yours you simply don’t touch it. Of course, that only applies within the tribe. Yes, hard to believe isn’t it. I was approached by the headman of one tribe wanting to exchange a bag of shrunken heads for the one small bag of potato chips I happened to have saved for an occasion such as this. He first offered a bag of opals but I declined, because, of course, shrunken heads have more value on the open market. The attraction of the chips seems to be the crackling sound, and the bits flying in all directions as you bit into them, rather than the flavor, or food value or the widely acknowledged health benefits. In other circumstances I could have been in serious jeopardy, many before me had disappeared in the vicinity and just their heads remained to mark their passing, but I had apparently been adjudged beneficial to the tribe for other than my inherent food value. Anyway, I got my heads, but it is almost impossible to recognize anyone in their present state. From the sneering, supercilious expression, this one could conceivably be my brother, but I can’t really be sure. Anyway, it hardly matters now, does it?    

Southern Highlands of where? Norway? They are pretty strange folks.