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A truck driver was driving along on the freeway. A sign comes up that reads “low bridge ahead.” Before he knows it the bridge is right a head of him and he gets stuck under the bridge. Cars are backed up for miles.

Finally, a police car comes up. The cop gets out of his car and walks around to the truck driver, puts his hands on his hips and says, “Got stuck, huh?”

The truck driver says, “No, I was delivering this bridge and ran out of gas.”

The following are reported to be taken from actual insurance claims:
The telephone pole was approaching. I was attempting to swerve out the way when I struck the front end.

The accident was caused by me waving to the man I hit last week.

I knocked over a man, he admitted it was his fault as he’d been knocked over before.
Coming home I drove into the wrong house and collided with a tree I don’t have.

The other car collided with mine without giving warning of its intent.

I collided with a stationary truck coming the other way.

In my attempt to kill a fly, I drove into a telephone pole.

I had been shopping for plants all day and was on my way home. As I reached an intersection, a hedge sprang up, obscuring my vision and I did not see the other car.

I had been driving for forty years when I fell asleep at the wheel and had an accident.

I was on my way to the doctor with rear end trouble when my universal joint gave way causing me to have an accident.

My car was legally parked as it backed into the other vehicle.

As I approached the intersection a sign suddenly appeared in a place where no sign had ever appeared before, making me unable to avoid the accident.

I told the police I was not injured, but upon removing my hair, I found that I had a fractured skull.

I was sure the old fellow would never make it to the other side of the road when I struck him.

I saw a slow-moving, sad-faced old gentleman as he bounced off the hood of my car.

The indirect cause of the accident was a little guy in a small car with a big mouth.

I was thrown from my car as it left the road, and was later found in a ditch by some stray cows.

A pedestrian hit me and went under my car.

I thought my window was down, but I found out it was up when I put my head through it.

To avoid hitting the bumper of the car in front, I struck the pedestrian.

The guy was all over the road. I had to swerve a number of times before I hit him.

The pedestrian had no idea which way to run, so I ran over him.

An invisible car came out of nowhere, struck my car and vanished.

A truck backed through my windshield into my wife’s face.

I pulled away from the side of the road, glanced at my mother-in-law, and headed over the embankment.

Peter Ludwig, a caver from Austria who is appalled by American driving
habits, offers the following advice:

The probability of being involved in a traffic accident is directly
proportional to time spent on the road. Driving fast decreases one’s
exposure.

One third of traffic accidents are caused by drunk drivers; two thirds
are caused by non-drunk drivers.

Therefore, the safest way to drive is drunk and VERY fast.

Auntie Em. Hate you, hate Kansas, taking the dog. Dorothy.

We’re staying together for the sake of the cats.

It’s been lovely, but I have to scream now.

My karma ran over your dogma.

Women who seek to be equal to men lack ambition.

This is not an abandoned vehicle.

I don’t lie, cheat or steal unnecessarily.

Beautify Texas. Put a Yankee on a bus.

Welcome to Texas, now go home.

It IS as bad as you think and they ARE out to get you.

If you don’t like the news, go out and make some of your own.

Life’s too short to dance with ugly men.

Life’s too short to dance with ugly women.

My wife says if I go fishing one more time, she’s going to leave me … Gosh, I’m going to miss her.

When you do a good deed get a receipt (in case heaven is like the IRS).

I is a college student.

Beer isn’t just for breakfast any more.

Sorry, I don’t date outside my species.

Will Rogers never met a lawyer.

Happiness is seeing your mother-in-law’s face on the back of a milk carton.

One dismal rainy night, a taxi driver spotted an arm waving from the shadows of an alley halfway down the block. Even before he rolled to a stop at the curb, a figure leaped into the cab and slammed the door.

Checking his rear view mirror as he pulled away, he was startled to see a dripping wet, naked woman sitting in the back seat.

“Where to?” he stammered.

“King Street,” answered the woman.

“You got it,” he said, taking another long glance in the mirror.

The woman caught him staring at her and asked, “Just what the hell are you looking at, driver?”

“Well madam,” he answered, “I was just wondering how you’ll pay your fare.”

The woman spread her legs, put her feet up on the front seat, smiled at the driver and said, “Does this answer your question?”

Still looking in the mirror, the cabby asked, “Got anything smaller?”



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