Used to roll through stop signs in a rather deserted part of the base I ride through. Empty lots, mostly deserted streets, plenty of visibility, until one day I rolled through one after slowing down somewhat, then as I passed the intersection I looked over to see the police station, where an officer stood by the back door, intently watching me, hands on hips. Oops...
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What do you call a cyclist who sells potpourri on the road? A pedaling petal-peddler.