Dear car full of boys who so stupidly jetted out from your countryside neighborhood road in front of me while I was going 65 on a highway and had my granddaughters in the car, causing me to have to slam on my brakes and swerve to avoid hitting your mommy-and-daddy-provided late-model-car, and who so knew you were making a brainless, idiotic move, you were already prepared and three hands were out the windows flipping me the bird as you screeched around me (the driver, the guy right behind the driver and yes, even the idiot in the back on the other side – all of you had your middle fingers flying out the window; I can only assume shotgun boy had his flying, too, but he was at least smart enough not to be flailing himself over the driver) –
Yeah: you guys!
I know you didn’t know my precious grandbebes were in the car, not that I think you really would have cared, anyway. I am pretty sure you are just so important you just couldn’t wait for the 4 or 5 cars behind me and felt you could get past me quickly enough (I don’t think your car is as fast as you thought, though), and even though I was angered and deeply appalled at your lack of forethought and the utter stupidity of your reckless driving-shenanigans and absolute carelessness about my life, the lives of my granddaughters and maybe even people in the next few cars behind me ~ still I thought I should mention ~ the message you sent me? Those three pestilent , puss-sucking birds I saw and maybe the ones I didn’t? The curses you so glibly sent my direction despite absolutely no provocation on my part? Just wanted to let you know:
Like a fluttering sparrow or a darting swallow,
an undeserved curse will not land on its intended victim.
So, thanks, but no thanks.
Curses, like young chickens, will always go home to roost. Just wanted to give you a heads up – watch for birds flying overhead.