My favourite personal example of instant karma.
I was driving down the home stretch of my nearby freeway, precisely on the speed limit, a long queue of cars to my left waiting for the exit. As soon as I got past the exit, I would move my trusty, rusty Toyota into the slow lane.

Of course, some people are less patient. A spike-haired boy racer type behind me started flashing his headlights and making hand gestures, as clearly 100km/h (about 60 mph) was too slow for his customised Honda. Now, I understand the urge to fly past slowpokes, but clearly I was just trying to get past the jammed exit, and I wasn't going slowly, as such. He could wait.

I kept my pace.

The hooting started. I can't lipread, but I could tell what his flapping mouthparts were spitting at me. I made a conciliatory wave, nodding in acknowledgement of his predicament.

I reached the end of the queue, and slipped into the slow lane. Boy Racer screamed his pathetic tuned-and-slammed little car past me, actually looking back to make further enraged gestures and statements.

Right under the overpass.

Where I knew the camera was hidden.

"Poof" went the camera.
(Ladyfingers is in your wardrobe,, Fri 6 Aug 2010, 7:23, 3 replies)

Damn those politically incorrect cameras
making allegations about people's sexuality!
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Fri 6 Aug 2010, 8:16, closed)

To be fair
Boy Racer's car was purple.
(Ladyfingers is in your wardrobe,, Fri 6 Aug 2010, 8:31, closed)

Hahahahaha

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 6 Aug 2010, 10:32, closed)