I just got hit by a deer.
Coming home from a two hour drive, I see a deer in the road. There's been deer all over the place tonight, but this one is actually in the road, right in my lane. FUUUUUUUUUCK! Hit the brakes, steer to the left, and I see the deer turn towards the side of the road as if he's actually going to get out of the way. Then, at the last moment, that little fucking rat-bastard turns and bolts at the opposite side of the road, and runs smack dab into my car. Head-first into the passenger window.
Glass shatters. I hear a "THUMP". I pull over. The deer is laying in the road, my passenger is covered with broken glass, I've damn near shit myself and the Ragin' Mrs. is demanding to know who just rudely woke her up from her nap, and can I please kill whoever it was.
Then the deer gets up and runs away. OK, so I didn't kill it. I almost wish I had, so that I could take it home and turn it into venison steaks. Hit my car? Hit my grill! I'm checking out the car. The passenger window is gone. Passenger mirror is gone, but the housing is still there. In fact, the housing doesn't have a crack that I can see, but the glass is shattered. I can't figure that one out. A few smudges on the side of the car, and that's it.
No one injured, and a grand total of one window and one mirror broken. That's it.
I'm still kind of in that FUCKING DEER FUCKING HIT MY FUCKING CAR THE FUCKING SHITTY VERMIN FUCK FUCK FUCK state of mind right now. My dear wife, sensing my fragile state of mind, kindly points out that even when I hit a deer with a car I still can't kill it. I'm thinking of borrowing a grenade launcher to go hunting with next year. And all in all I'm thinking that I should be grateful as hell that we were able to drive away from the whole experience.
Now I need to go find out how much it costs to replace a window.