It's not the Bonnaroo post!

God damn, has it already been 21 days since I last updated? Yes, rhetorical question, it has.

Please forgive me on the lack of posting, and more specifically the Bonnaroo post. However, please take into consideration that I took a full memory card worth of Bonnaroo pictures and I'm stuck with a 42.6K modem until mid-to-late August.

In the meantime, however, I would like to tell you a story that just might help you later on down the road.

Years ago, my friend Ian H. told me that he had a plan to get out of a traffic ticket. He said: "If I'm ever about to get pulled over, I'm just going to drive really fast to my house, run inside for about ten minutes, come back out and tell the cop that I just had to shit really bad and that's why I was speeding."

As absurd as this scheme sounds, I come before you tonight with real-life testimony as to the power and genius of the plan.

Tuesday morning at around 3:30 I was returning home, heading west on Samford Avenue. Suddenly, my police radar detector started going off, I quickly slowed down just as an APD squad car zipped right by me. Thinking that I was in the clear, I began to turn onto my street. As I was making the turn, however, I noticed that the police car was turning around. I realized that I was about to be pulled over.

I completed the turn onto Pinedale Drive, and came to a sudden stop in front of my house. As the cop came around the corner, I ripped my radar detector off of the windshield, unplugged it, and stashed it under the passenger seat. (From what I hear, cops are real Nazis about that shit).

Suddenly remembering the plan Ian had told me all those years ago, I got out of the car just as the cop was pulling in behind me. I stood there on the steps outside of my house and let slip the master thespian living inside of me. This was his time to shine.

I imagined holding back a turd the size of a male Mako Shark. A turd of the magnitude that I was trying to convey would, undoubtedly, lead to shaking, so I began to shake.

The officer opened his car door, and just as he did, I said "Can I help you?"

Okay, I realize that's not the best thing to say to a cop right off the bat, but, think about it, if you really have to go, you're not thinking about what you're saying. All you're thinking about is that pristine porcelain reservoir you're hoping to reach in time. If the situation that I was pretending to be in were real, the cop's menial accusations of a so-called "traffic violation" would take an immediate back seat to the more pressing (literally) issue at hand: your impending bowel movement.

To the aforementioned comment, the officer replied: "Yeah, I'm pulling you over because you were going 47 miles per hour in a 30 mile per hour zone."

What do I say now? I can't just say "I gotta shit!" What should I do?... I've got it!: Feign a medical condition. Then I thought, it's best not to show my cards until the end of the game. So I just let out some urgent-sounding bullshit: "I'm so sorry" I said.

"Can I see your driver's license and proof of insurance, please?", he said.

I carefully bent down into my car and pulled out the two requested items.

After examining them for what must've seemed like hours for the toilet-deprived character I was portraying, the cop unleashed the golden question and my key to salvation:

"Son, is there any reason you were going that fast?"

Mustering up a voice that sounded both pathetic and urgent, I quickly let out the following:

"Sir, I have food allergies and I really have to use the bathroom..."

I put my hand on my stomach so that he knew I was talking big business here.

"...It must've been something I ate earlier. I don't really know what's wrong, but I have to go to the bathroom NOW!"

The officer took one last look to see that my papers were legit, and then he said:

"If you want to save yourself about $160 dollars you best be going slower down that road from now on. Now, take off."

I grabbed my papers and ran inside, a free man once again.

Thank you Ian for your idea. Though I didn't follow it down to the T, I still credit you for it. Its brilliance comes in the fact that even cops know what it's like when you really gotta go.

Also, Ian you'll be happy to know that, last Sunday, Richard backed into, and hit me with a car. It was almost exactly the same way I did to you that one night. All is right with the universe now.

Next Time: BONNAROO 2005