To the idiot who blew through the stop sign: I'm sure you didn't see me. Thankfully, I saw you. Though I was on the straightaway, I didn't trust you and slowed, and I was right.
You didn't even slow down at that stop sign, and your oversized penis substitution vehicle would have slammed into the passenger side of my little four-door at about 35 miles an hour if I hadn't seen you coming. I don't think my son would have appreciated that.
STOP MEANS STOP, MORON.
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