Pic of the Day: “Mr. Neff, why don’t you drop by tomorrow evening about eight-thirty. He’ll be in then.” “Who?” “My husband. You were anxious to talk to him weren’t you?” “Yeah, I was, but I’m sort of getting over the idea, if you know what I mean.” “There’s a speed limit in this state, Mr. Neff. Forty-five miles an hour.” “How fast was I going, officer?” “I’d say around ninety.” “Suppose you get down off your motorcycle and give me a ticket.” “Suppose I let you off with a warning this time.” “Suppose it doesn’t take.” “Suppose I have to whack you over the knuckles.” “Suppose I bust out crying and put my head on your shoulder.” “Suppose you try putting it on my husband’s shoulder.” “That tears it.”