Hooray, blogger's finally working! Yip yip!

Some of you may remember my little fender bender a few weeks back that send me screeching across a few lanes of traffic, fucking up my already fucked-up fuckbox of a car. While repairing the damage to my car was irritating to say the least, the most shocking aspect of the whole ordeal was my complete lack of an adrenaline rush on impact. I felt nothing. I was completely calm the entire time.

Fast forward to last night. I was walking down a well-lit city street, listening to a book on tape (Ann Coulter's "Liberals Can Suck My Adam's Apple") on my Sony walkman when a car blindly started back into me. Luckily, I was nimble enough to jump back and slap my hand down hard on the trunk of the car to get the woman's attention, causing her to step on her brake and avoid breaking both of my legs.

When the woman who nearly maimed me finally stopped and rolled down her window, what hateful yet justified bit of vitriol did I spew at her?

"Be careful. You almost hit me."

Aw snap! I got her, huh? Seriously, that's all that came out of my mouth. And what's more - once again, NO adrenaline rush whatsoever. I was completely calm and collected the entire time.

I think my fight or flight response is broken. If I were a gazelle I would have been cut from the herd by now.