You think it won't happen to you...and then it does!
Driving back from the post office, it was a beautiful afternoon. Snow in the fields and clear roads. As usual, I was packing a 1911.
I had just popped a fresh stick of spearmint into my mouth as I slowed down for a 90° turn by the cemetery. Something caught my eye off to the left. It was a man with a rifle.
He raised it to his shoulder and fired. I hit the brakes
The moving coyote bit the dust about 150 yards out. I put the window down and hollered, "Nice shot Frank!" Frank grinned and waved.
I drove toward the house and, while chomping the spearmint, I bit the hell out of my lip.
That's right...
I am a victim of gum violence.
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