Fuck Stick-shifts.... and your mom

Yea, so I usually don't post things that happen in my personal life because I don't feel that its the business ofr anyone that happens to stop by my site. But I thought that what happened tonight was so good that it deserved a post. So... let me start by saying that I hate manual cars. I hate the clutch, the stick, and the way the fucker jolts my bitch ass around jsut before I stall ity. Yea, I hate that. A lot. But I'm buying this manual from my bro's girlfriend because its only 700 dollars and I'm broke and going to college. So my bro goes on vacation with his girl, leaving the car and keys for myself to use - hatefully. So I work an elven hour day, get in my car, get gas, and start ddriving home. Two blocks from my house, I shift to third. Now, when I shift to third, I am trying to go faster than second. And because I hate the way the car bitches when I go to slow for third, I make sure I go nice and fast to avoid above-mentioned bitchy noises. I go nice and fast, over and bump and nearly become air-borne - in front of a cop. Stupid-ass mother fucker!! - not me, the cop. He switches on his lights and I think in my head, "Oh fuckity fuck fuck fuckin' shit!!" - or something to that nature. Then he turns them on and I think, "Oh please be one of those cops that don't exist and flip there lights on and then flip them off and not pull me over!!" It was not that sort of cop. He swtiches his lights back on and I think, "Oh fuckity fuck fuck - etc...." and pull over. He comes up to my car and says, "That was stupid!" "Not as stupid as your moustache!" I said. No, actually I didn't. I said, "Yes it was." I handed him my license and then explained that the car was not mine but it was my brothers girlfriend's car and that was why I was searching desperately for the registration and proof of insurance in the messy-ass glove compartment. "What's the coat hanger for?" he asked as I desperastely cleared away the shitt - like tampons. And stuff that I don't use. And stuff that obviously indicated this was not my car. "What coat hanger?" I asked. "The one in the back seat," he says. I looked int he backseat. Sure enough, my bro's girlfriend has an unwound coat hanger in the backseat. Things were looking bad. I'm speeding in a car that is not mine with a coat hanger in the backseat. Yes, things were looking downright shitty for ol' Matty P. "I don't know," I squeaked and depserately continued scrounging through the shit int he glove comaprtment. Finally I find it and he tells me not to move while he goes back to his car. And calls in the license plate to make sure the car's not stolen. And then comes back and gives me a weird-ass ticket with an empty spot where it says fine. And tells me that he's going to be nice and not impound my car for having outdated insurance. And then I'm so fucked up I drive the rest of the way home with the E-brake on, wondering why this piece of shit car is running so weird.