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June 7, 2010

I went to take the written exam at the DMV to renew my license so I can keep cruising…the Mean DMV Lady handed me my test sheet.

“Can I call my cousin Pedro if I get stuck on a drunk driving question?  He’s got four DUI’s and knows his stuff.”

“Absolutely not!” the Mean Lady shouted.

“What about Speed Racer?  Can I call Speed Racer if I get stuck on a speed question?”

“No!” She shouted, “You can’t call anyone!  Go take your test in the designated area!”

I took the Mean Lady’s hint and found a spot next to a guy who was on crutches, had his arm in a sling and a bloody bandage around his head.

“You mind if I copy off of you?” I whispered.

“Of course not,” he said and slid his test closer to me.

“Right on, thanks.  What happened to you anyway?”

“Car accident.”

“Who’s fault was it?”

“Mine,” he said.

Fvck that, I moved hella far away from him, homeboy can’t drive.

Then I couldn’t believe who I had just moved next to…Jeff Mothafvckin’ Gordon!  The race car driver!  In his racing outfit!

Before I could sneak a peek around his helmet at his answers, Jeff said, “Hey, you wanna copy off me?”

I easily copied his answers faster than he drives and got in line behind the accident victim to get my test scored.  Jeff stood behind me.

The accident victim scored a 98.  I felt pity for him because I was about to score 100.

I gave the Mean Lady my test sheet…she scored it…a big fat zero!

My jaw dropped.

Jeff stepped up next…the Mean Lady addressed him, “Happy Halloween, Mr. Davis.  Dressed as Jeff Gordon again?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“You think you’ll finally pass?” She asked him.

Jeff looked at me, “No.”


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