Is Stephen Wright the World’s Best Traffic Comedian?
George Carlin is a serious rival, and Jerry Seinfeld has his moments — and any other suggestions are welcomed — but I submit to you the following road-related quips from the Brillo-headed surrealist:
My house is on the median strip of a highway. You don’t really notice, except I have to leave the driveway doing 60 MPH.
I hooked up my accelerator pedal in my car to my brake lights. I hit the gas, people behind me stop, and I’m gone.
I replaced the headlights in my car with strobe lights, so it looks like I’m the only one moving.
I put a new engine in my car, but forgot to take the old one out. Now my car goes 500 miles per hour.
I watched the Indy 500, and I was thinking that if they left earlier they wouldn’t have to go so fast.
I had to stop driving my car for a while… the tires got dizzy.
My neighbor has a circular driveway… he can’t get out.
I used to work in a fire hydrant factory. You couldn’t park anywhere near the place.
I have an answering machine in my car. It says, “I’m home now. But leave a message and I’ll call when I’m out.”
I saw a sign: “Rest Area 25 Miles”. That’s pretty big. Some people must be really tired.
A cop stopped me for speeding. He said, “Why were you going so fast?” I said, “See this thing my foot is on? It’s called an accelerator. When you push down on it, it sends more gas to the engine. The whole car just takes right off. And see this thing? This steers it.”
I was going 70 miles an hour and got stopped by a cop who said, “Do you know the speed limit is 55 miles per hour?” “Yes, officer, but I wasn’t going to be out that long…”
One time a cop pulled me over for running a stop sign. He said, “Didn’t you see the stop sign?” I said, “Yeah, but I don’t believe everything I read.”
I got my driver’s license photo taken out of focus on purpose. Now when I get pulled over the cop looks at it (moving it nearer and farther, trying to see it clearly)… and says, “Here, you can go.”
When I get real bored, I like to drive downtown and get a great parking spot, then sit in my car and count how many people ask me if I’m leaving.
The other night I came home late, and tried to unlock my house with my car keys. I started the house up. So, I drove it around for a while. I was speeding, and a cop pulled me over. He asked where I lived. I said, “right here, officer”. Later, I parked it on the freeway, got out, and yelled at all the cars, “Get out of my driveway!”
This entry was posted on Wednesday, June 3rd, 2009 at 11:29 am and is filed under Traffic Culture. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
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