Troopers in trouble
The only thing that really calmed me down for the rest of my trip was the joint that I had tucked away in one of my tool boxes. It was just enough to keep me from thinking about how much of a bitch that damn trooper was to me. Once I got to Daytona, I found my friend Tony. We were having a couple beers at this bar and catching up on old times when all of a sudden I hear a deep voice go “Maxwell, you sorry son of a bitch!” As I turn around I saw my old pal Randy. Me, Tony and Randy ran...