One morning, back in the 60’s, there’s this biker guy heading for home after a great party. He’s toolin’ along on his bike, just mellow like but careful too for as you know good drugs were involved.
All of a sudden his contentment is disrupted by the flashing of a red light. ‘Shit! It’s a cop.’
The biker goes into super alert mode (well, as best he can anyway), shifts it down and pulls over.
The cop walks up and, as they usually do, gives him that once over look and asks, “Do you know how fast you were going?”
“Nope. Guess again.”
Biker thinks ‘I know I was going fast but not that fast’ but guesses anyway, “Uh, 70?”
“Nope. Try again.”
Biker’s starting to freak out now, ‘I couldn’t have been going that fast man, I’m pretty fucked up’, but has to come up with something, “75?”
“Nooo… you were doing eight miles per hour.”
Love y’all 🙂