Da po-po is after my mo-go, watch dis wack mo-jo
To be legal, I had to get insurance (!) and a temporary permit to operate my moto-bicycle here in Oregon. I decided to preemptively get my ducks in a row, as there is a particular lady police officer that keeps showing an unholy interest in my transportation device. So far I have always managed to slip off the road into a side street and disappear before she could get turned around, so I -know- she's on the lookout now. Game on!
Now I'm parading around town just waiting to get pulled over so I can *shwing* whip out my "official documents", including proof of -and justification for- existence.... I can't wait. Ha!! In your face! I -have- my letters of marque! TAKE THAT! A total reverse psychology rebellion!
While she's bedazzled by my mastery of official documents, I'll see if I can talk her into Buying Me Lunch(c)*, just to top off my triumph over bureaucracy.
Go ahead, scoff, but I'll have the last laugh as I down the last bite of my club sandwich. ; )
* If you would like to participate in the great Buying Me Lunch(c) experience of 2006, please feel free to use the "Paypal Donation" button at the upper left of the blog page.
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