Maybe this is just me, but every time some moron swerves into my lane on the back roads of Etters — or cuts me off at 70 mph on I-83 — while obviously visibly stupidly talking on a cell phone, head inclined, brain deactivated, I pray for a freaking cop.
Never happens. Cop never shows up.
So I wish cancer, emphysema and syphilis on the moron and keep going.
I shouldn’t have to.
There ought to be a law against talking on a cell phone while driving, as there is in the City of Harrisburg and our sister state to the south, Maryland.
It is this simple: Shut the eff up and drive. Like now. Why is that hard?
Okay, it’s really not if the law says it is what you should do. You can tell your boss or tell your wife that you can’t talk right now on account of you are, ya know, driving.
If only if only the greatly historically dysfunctional state legislature would dare to piss off ATT and Verizon and other great campaign givers of the campaign funds.
If only. Not bloody likely.
Look at the deadly Marcellus Shale campaign givers and the No Tax Pledge and you will see the protocol for not pissing off the People With The Money.
Talk on, cell phone morons.
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