Mr. P and I drove out to Pt. Reyes for a hike on Sunday since we hadn't seen daylight in so long we feared rickets. On the way back we were discussing how shitty drivers are in California because all the way home it was an orgy of shitty driving including over/under use of turn signals, people pulling out into traffic during a red light to cause grid lock, the ever popular right turn on red from the center lane, motorcycles weaving in and out of traffic, etc. This was topped off by one of the shittiest driving moves yet which was to rear end our car from a complete stop as we were paying our toll at the Golden Gate tollbooth. It was basically a jarring tap with no real damage done to people or property but the tollbooth operator just about lost her mind. She instantly advised us to sue for whiplash because, you know, it doesn't take much and she had it once and was nearly paralyzed and that's what people do here in San Francisco they sue each other over the indignity of paper cuts.

Anyway, when we got home we agreed that dinner would most definitely be improved by the introduction of beer so Mr. P went to pick some up while I went upstairs. About two seconds later I heard squealing brakes and then metal crunching because there was just another accident at our corner which by the way people, now has a fully functional stop light and it only cuts down accidents by fifty percent. When he got back I ask him if he saw the accident and he said yeah, pretty much same set up as usual, then we opened a beer.