wtf omg rock star lolz

when did the status of webdesigner get elevated to rock star.

i get pulled over tonight in my redneck mobile, on the way home from my parent’s house, on walnut grove. my car has the magic ability to lose the “tail lights”. We’re cruising at exactly the speed limit, Brass Monkey blaring on the radio and bam, blue lights. i hate fords, i think the fuse is lose….anyway.

big black cop. lots of tattoos. lots of hair on his arm.

if you search “police” and “pulled over” in my site, you’d get a lot of hits.

this is another one 🙁

i fumble for my insurance, which is in console, the last place i look, first place valerie looks. with all the fumbling, he was probably already loading a shell into his gun.

he asks where i am going. i tell him home. i am going home, not lying. he looks at my license and says home is the opposite direction. because i was leaving my parents which is the address on the license. just lied to a cop, not win.

strike 1

i already know why he pulled me over, i tell him i just bought the car, still finding broken shit on it and apoligize. he asks who i bought the car from”. I can’t remember the guy’s name, it was on the receipt, it hasn’t been important until now. I’m not good with remembering things. I tell him i dont know.

strike 2

i find the receipt, title and insurance. not in handcuffs or back of car yet, still winning. he asks where i work. i say “i’m self employed”.

when i think “self employed” i think “drug dealer”. I am not a drug dealer. I don’t do drugs. Or drink.

he then asks what do. “i design websites”. I can almost feel the nightstick hitting my jaw. Valerie screaming, “omg omg omg”. He asks how much i make doing websites. I lie, “400 to 2 grand, really depends on what it is”.

He asks for a business card.

I don’t carry business cards.

He flashes the flashlight into Valerie’s eyes. “are you his girlfriend?” She smiles and says “yes”. He asks her how, how she expects im going to be a webdesigner without carrying business cards. She says “oh he’s just out, new car, you know”. I write my name, hand shaking from alcohol withdrawl, probably looks like sanskrit, my name and phone number.

While im writing it, he tells me to hurry “because he is about to get carried off by one of these mosquitos”. I don’t get a ticket, i pull off, manage not to get pulled over anymore times, and now im drinking. No, im not drinking. But if i did, i would.

But i don’t.

Valerie pointed out tho, that in the next week or two, i should expect a call. “Hey, remember me, i kept you out of a ticket”. Then im going to build some cop e-commerce site for free or else i’m going to get even more heat.

Fucked.

It’s like when they bust prostitutes and fuck them in some parking garage. But with websites. And me.