Ah, the memories! I'm doing the speed limit on a two lane road when a tricked out Beemer comes up behind me and flashes his headlights. I can see him in my rea rview, highly agitated and making faces. Seconds later, he pulls along side me and displays his IQ with his middle finger, cuts me off and races on ahead. I gave him about 100 feet and then lit him up. He ran over a center concrete divider and tore out his oil pan, coming to a stop a bit up the road. His first comment was, "Where the xxxx did you come from?" His second was, "The gun and drugs aren't mine." I don't think he ever figured out that it was me he passed. A marked unit took him away and all he ever saw of my plain wrapper was the very bright lights. They were white and blue! Those were the days!

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Term limits!