Hi. I am the person who was riding the absolutely badass motorcycle next to your nondescript black SUV today on 280N. You were obviously going on a bit of a cleaning spree in your car, and have a queer sense of timing, as you emptied your ashtray directly into my helmet.
I really enjoyed the spray of dirt, ashes, and cigarette butts in my eyes and mouth, and especially appreciated the still lit butt that bounced off my cheek.
Exfoliation was never this exciting. Now I see why there are entire industries based around it. The adrenaline rush alone from my momentary loss of sight and worry that the lit butt was still in my helmet will keep me going for HOURS.
I imagine all sorts of reasons for your choice of time and place. Perhaps you were being attacked by angry, vicious alien raccoons and had to eject your ashtray so they couldn’t take any cigarette-based DNA samples away with them. Perhaps your mother-in-law suddenly materialized in the passenger seat and you’ve been lying to your spouse about quitting smoking. Perhaps you are a shitweasel of the lowest order who litters and doesn’t give a single fuck whom that litter might hurt.
It’s all good, assnozzle. You only nearly blinded and potentially killed somebody on the road today. No biggie, right, dicknugget? Yeah. I hope I get to meet you someday, you utter fucking twatwaffle. So I can shake your hand. With a chair. To your face.