What is the shit-your-pants funniest thing you ever did see? I can think of 3 things:
One day in ‘the city’ (what us small town hicks call any part of the incorporated or unincorporated areas in or around Kansas City) my friend and I were sitting in my car at a red light. The left turn lane was chock full. Suddenly, the guy in the lane looks around, then darts through the light. Everyone else follows him. For the next 5 minutes, our lights all stayed red, including the left turn light, but no one with a green could go because there was a constant flow of cars through the red left turn light. Finally, a cop pulled up, lights a-flashing, but everyone ignored him and kept going on through the light. He got out, looked at the red light, looked at the cars, waved his arms around a bit, got back in, used his radio, and while he was sitting in his car (5 sec tops) the light turned green. He got back out, looked at the light again, scratched his head, shrugged his shoulders, got in his car, and drove away. Our light then went green, but we sat through most of it trying to stop laughing and get a hold of ourselves.
One day, in my old car (88.5 Escort Pony, light grey, no options) I was driving down a road with 3 friends. Suddenly out of nowhere, this huge bird swoops over the windshield, RIGHT across it, nearly touching it, and, with a squawk, deposits the BIGGEST bird shit I have ever seen in the upper corner, out of reach of my wipers. We all look at each other, then bust out laughing. I had to pull over to keep from wrecking.
3)One day last year I was skipping school with a bunch of friends. Finally all the friends broke up into 4 person groups, and went our seperate ways. About 1 pm we were in my old car (see above), my friend Missy driving (worst driver ever, big mistake), Jessica (can’t stand her now) in the passenger, Jeana (my sweetie pie! J/K we’re just friends. She’s my best friend thats a girl) behind the driver, and I in the rear passenger position. We were going down a dirt road at about 55, coming up on a oddly built bridge that, with enough speed, you could get a huge flying leap across. As we neared the bridge, I noticed a bunch of animals (big animals) alongside the road, 2 horses, a mule, and 2 minature donkeys. As we got closer I told Missy to slow the f^ck down. Right as we hit the bridge and started to take flight, the minature donkey broke out in a trot beside us. As it was running it cut across in front of us, and, to make fun of us, looked back and says “EEEE-HAW!” Sadly, as it looked back, it tripped. It started to go down, but Missy nailed it, right in the ass (haha). It doubled over, rolling head over hoof, about a dozen times, until it flopped sideways in a ditch. We were stunned. Missy got out, the only one, and went over to look at it, but lost it, and crouched, holding onto the door, alternating laughing and crying. Jessica just stared out her window in shock, and I tried to rouse Jeana from her game of pocket Tetris to show her what happened. We sat there debating what to do, till Missy decided (bright girl) to get our friend Cody to kill it. We went to Cody’s house, and they got out, and as I was getting out they were like “Stay in the car” so of course, I got out. My bumper was broken in half, scraping the ground in the middle. My grille was gone. And my hood was crumpled cleanly about 6" back, and about 3" high. I was pissed. I jumped straight up in the air and landed on the crease, instantly flattening it. I just stood on the hood fuming as they talked to Cody. He called his step-dad, who went with us to the site, and he sent us to call the cops (big decision… we were on State Line road between Mo and Ks… who to call? We called Mo. Ks has free-range laws). We went to Jon’s house (my best guy friend, Jessica’s brother) to call. When I told 911, they laughed for nearly 5 minutes. When we got back to the site, Missy’s dad was there. It ended up being the donkey owner’s fault, because he knew about the hole in the fence and neglected to fix it. We found a sizable chunk of my grille impaled in the donkey’s ass. The rest was on the ground. The Ford plate was covered with blood. They ended up putting the donkey down. Sadly, it was pregnant. Though I was pissed at the time, we now all smile knowingly whenever someone mentions the donkey story. And Missy’s sometimes nickname is “Missy: Donkey Slayer” Most people don’t believe me when I tell this story. But it makes a great pickup line… “So… my first car was wrecked by a pregnant miniature donkey… how about yours?”
We are the children of the Eighties. We are not the first “lost generation” nor today’s lost generation; in fact, we think we know just where we stand - or are discovering it as we speak.