People committing crimes would be wisely advised to not try and explain their exploits.

Wednesday’s Butler Eagle contained this brilliant line.

“My car has homemade wooden brake pads that caused me to hit the guardrail.”

That is right. It wasn’t the alleged drugs in my system nor the alcohol. No sir, it was the homemade wooden brake pads that Opie and I whittled using Jed Clampett’s whittling knife while Granny was fixin’ our vittles.

It had nothing to do with the speed reaching 130 miles per hour, although maybe that is the point at which a homemade wooden brake pad might explode into flames from friction.

Like Jed Clampett’s nephew, Jethro Bodine, this driver got stuck not in the fifth grade, but in fifth gear, which is when his expert driving skills let him down and he struck the guardrail.

Now, honestly, if that is the most believable story you can create, shouldn’t you just keep quiet?

No, we doubt Jed will be asking this scholar to do any ciphering for him any time soon. Well doggy!

— RV