Our Rural Road
Usually, it was minor things at the mouth of the road. Collisions into the guardrail that mussed up a front fender and little else. The loud squeak of breaks and the cloud of white steam from burnt tire rubber and then maybe voices in dissent. Never the need for an ambulance.
Between the Blue Origin Failure of Feminism and JD Vance killing Pope Francis, I have not loved the internet this much since 1997 when I learned I could use it to find photos of a topless Cameron Diaz.