Dear Manbun Neckbeard,
Normally I don’t offer advice to those who are neither kith nor kin, but in this case I should like to offer some words of wisdom from one who has been around this little green dirtball a few more decades than you:
The Law of Physics is not like other Laws — such as the Law of Traffic or the Law of Pedestrians — it is pitiless, merciless, does not brook stupidity, and usually extracts a stiffer penalty than a mere fine or jail time.
With this in mind, in the future, consider taking your pretentious, hipster douche-baggery down to the crosswalk before crossing the bloody frontage road — especially at zero-bloody-dark thirty and you in (no doubt hand-dyed, Free Trade) black cotton everything.
Now, do not mistake me: I don’t particularly give a warm bucket of rat expectorant if a Ford F250 — like the one that just had to swerve out of your way — punts you thirty feet down the road, but I don’t want to spend my next few trips down this road driving through the miasmatic cloud of halitosis and patchouli that would probably linger after having been knocked from your pores by the impact.
Much like the olfactory reminder of the demise of a skunk, only with fewer skid marks evident, come to think.
So. Move your non-GMO arse, you jackass.
Nothing but love,