Banta was sitting on a park bench muttering to himself and spitting. He would mutter, then spit, mutter, then spit, he would say, "Damn, that son of a bitch can drive", then spit, "Damn, that son of a bitch can drive", then spit, "Damn that son of a bitch can drive", then spit. Santa sits down next to him and asks, "What's going on? You keep saying, 'Damn that son of a bitch can drive', then you spit". "Well", says the guy, "My friend just got a brand new sports car, so he calls me and asks me if I want to go for a ride. So I say sure, why not? He picks me up and we drive up to the mountains. After we have lunch, we start back down the mountain and his brakes go out!! He's pumping the pedal, and nothing!! So now we're picking up speed and the road is all twisty and curvy. We're going faster and faster and it's hard to stay on the road. I've got my fingers embedded in the dashboard, and I'm pleading with him to do something!! We're going about 80 mph now, with a sheer cliff on our right, a 500 foot drop on the other side, an 18 wheeler right on our ass, and an overturned motor home right in front of us. Well, I figure this is it! I just knew we were gonna die! So I turn to him and said... 'Buddy, if you can get us outta this, I'll give you the best damn blow job you've ever had!'" He paused. Then spit. "DAMN, THAT SON OF A BITCH CAN **DRIVE**!!" |