Bone Collector

I nearly died.

A few nights ago it was raining armadillos and bluebells (that’s how it happens down here) outside, and I was driving.  And it was dark. And Houstonians don’t do so well when it’s not sunny out.

I was driving on the highway when a large pickup truck pulled out in front of me from the righthand lane.  I slammed on my brakes to try to avoid ending up in this guy’s glove compartment.

Tires squealed and I was shaken.

Breathe, breathe. Did you pee yourself? Okay good.  Wow, adrenaline makes you kinda buzzy feeling. 

When I regained calmness again, I noticed that on the back of this lifted, chrome grill, double exhaust truck was a huge sticker that said, “Bone Collector”.

Great, I was almost killed by an anthropologist.

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