I suppose the only mildly amusing observation I've made recently came as I commuted home behind a lovely young woman. She, in her low convertible, singing along to the radio.

Not singing, sorry, I wrote that too soon. She sang, yes that's true, but she also bounced in her seat, snapped her fingers and waved her hands above her head, and thrust her head side to side, mouth stretching wide to hold the long notes.

She looked impossibly cute, the little bits I could see in no less than five mirrors that surrounded her. But the dominant thought going through my mind wasn't sexual, it was, "My-fucking-God, you are such a tool."

I think she might be one who, when riding as a passenger, puts her bare feet on the windshield. Pretty sure that'd be her.