After four hard-fought games of one-on-one with a buddy (Phu; who many of you know and have been unfriended by) I returned home tonight primed, geared and READY—to collapse on my couch and channel-surf.

Going through a couple dozen unappealing options, I eventually stumbled upon Spike TV and their hit show, 1,000 Ways To Die. (At least I think it’s 1,000; it could be 1,001). In the past,  I’ve glanced at the program when nothing else caught my eye, but I'm not here to talk about the past.
The show’s title basically says it all---unfortunate, unlucky, and unintelligent folks worldwide who have actually perished in bizarre fashion get their stories re-enacted for our viewing pleasure. And our viewing pain, in many cases.

Such as #577.
Two open cars full of tough-looking factions ride side-by-side down a service road of some sort. The occupants are playing what is implied to be a common game in their locale—a girl in one car makes out with her boyfriend in the opposite car while the two cars are in motion. 
Apparently, the object of this “game” is to go as long as they can before being forced to break the smooch by an obstacle in the road—sign, pole, fence, etc. Their respective drivers are not responsible for their safety.

Harry and Sally, this couple was not---this pair was right out of Wild Hogs, practically their whole persons decorated in leather, tats and piercings. Among those piercings were dual tongue piercings. By now you may have figured out where I’m going with this.

As “Romeo” and “Juliet” twisted their tongues together in their (advancing) respective rides, a raised forklift emerged in their path. The couple spotted it right away but just could not take their mouths off each other. Literally. You see, their rings somehow intertwined inside their mouths.
Their tongues were locked like the jaws of Howard Dean’s Iowa supporters.
And their drivers were none the wiser.

Remember, the KISSERS are responsible for avoiding any obstacle, not the navigators. The cars never slowed down, and the couple never broke free from their self-made trap. The forklift decapitated them both.
Their surviving friends went from sheer exhilaration one moment, to carpooling with headless corpses the next.

If any good comes from the deaths of these two relatively young people, it’s that their genes died with them.

As for their friends who did leave the scene with fully attached noggins, we must hope that they now understand what those noggins are for, and the horrible memory they hold will “drive” them to use said noggins more acutely in the future.
(Note: the forklift was not injured.)