Why did you decide to barrel down the street, your trajectory as misguided and ill fated as one of many thousands of sperms searching for the elusive destination of an egg? I know you must have seen me coming down the street before you hit me. In this town, my reputation proceeds me as if it were "the war on terror" and I were the many thousands of marketed products, services, agendas, magazine covers, grammy acceptance speeches, ugly handicrafts, and politicians gliding on its coat tails. My car blocked you like a sperimicide just trying to do its job. Before you decide to drive all crazy, please look to see if there is something in your way.

With Much Legitimate Anger, Jane Torpedo