Splat, etc., omg.

So, I have absolutely no idea what this is. It's about five or six inches long, perhaps two inches wide. That's Snowball II's windshield. West Virginia. Oh. My. God. How foul is that? I think I would have noticed a bird, small mammal, reptile or flying extraterrestrial being splattering itself across the glass like that as we careened through the mountains of West Virginia at 75-80 mph (love their higher speed limit). It was sunny enough and hot enough that I literally burned my finger touching the black paint to open the door at Sideling Hill. You can imagine how fun that mess was to get off at the next gas stop. So some moron in West Virginia chipped the windshield later that day. Said stupid redneck cut us off in a construction zone. I leaned on the horn and wished for some James Bond styled rockets behind the headlights. But damn, American cars don't have things like that in them, you know. Too bad, since -- in my experience -- drivers in West Virginia make the drivers in this area look like pros. Still, the Asshole Award goes to another idiot outside of Louisville, Kentucky. So there's an accident on the exit ramp onto Interstate 65, toward Nashville. It's on the left. Traffic stops, slows, stops, slows, etc. Contrary to my West Virginia experiences, I think that people in Western Kentucky are not only polite, friendly and nice, they are also pretty damned good drivers, too. So people are helping people out, letting people into and out of lanes, etc. I join in on spreading the goodness, and let out a gold PT Cruiser just as the traffic in the right lane is gone, while the left lane (waiting to get on I-65) is stopped totally. Cool. We both floor it, and we're doing 75 mph in no time. At this point, PT Asshole reveals that his plan has been all along to basically cut around the traffic waiting to get onto I-65 and to cut back in as close to the ramp as possible. This involves slamming on the breaks when he realizes that he has almost passed the ramp. This sudden stopping involves almost getting a Focus ZX-5 shoved up his ass. I was properly caffeinated, though, so it was Okay. No crash. But, yeah, PT Asshole, that was me leaning on the horn and offering you my crooked middle finger. Kiss my ass. (For the record, PT Asshole was from Indiana, not Kentucky.) The Funny As Shit Award goes to a Saab outside of Lexington, Kentucky. It's bumper sticker proclaims, "The only Bush I trust is my own." So true. So true. Sorry the photo is blurry.