The longer your excuse is, the more I know you’re full of crap. When you tell me you drifted over the fog line because you were wiping a booger on the floor mat, I believe you. Please pay more attention to the road, and have a nice day.

When you tell me you didn’t know your license was suspended because you’ve been living with your best friend’s sister’s aunt’s boyfriend’s brother since your electricity was turned off because the neighbor’s nephew’s brother-in-law didn’t pay you what he owed for the tires you sold him in January, so you couldn’t afford to pay the bill because you lost your job at the car wash in December because…STOP, enough already, be quiet. I stopped believing you when you started talking.

I’ve usually decided if I’m going to give you a citation or not before I’ve even talked to you. If I wasn’t going to cite you, the only way for you to screw it up is to lie to me. Now, where’s that booger.

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