Back in the late 80’s in the Black Hills, a buddy and I were heading home from some cliff jumping up by Mt Rushmore. We came up behind a 4-door sedan swerving back and forth violently. We slowed and followed as it looked like they may end up in the ditch any moment. The back window was kind of dirty so the view into the cab wasn’t the greatest. What we could see looked like a dog jumping on the driver.

We finally had room to get by, and the dog turned out to be a hottie teenage brunette riding the driver. He had slid so far down the seat he couldn’t see the road.

Never will forget the grin on that guy’s face.

Last edited by kroo88; 04/02/20.

I retired from the Johns Manville asbestos pop tart factory in ‘59, and still never made the connection.—-Slumlord