When I was driving the very long and contrastingly both harrowing and monotonous drive home from my Aunt’s house in Leander, I realized I was having some car problems. Each time I’d shift, the engine would sputter, and the car would lurch back and forth, and for some reason, my top speed was 50 mph, despite how heavily I thought I was stepping on the gas.
Now this predicament was quite grave, especially given the state I was in. I couldn’t help but to be, not necessarily unreasonably paranoid.
As I chugged along, my mind racing at the catastrophic possibilities of what could be in store for me and my defective vehicle, of what would happen to The Tiffers and me, were we to actually be stranded in BFE, with only pick up driving good ol’ boys to come to our aid, it struck me…
Every time I’m driving high, my car fucks up, starts acting all funny.
Fuck me!
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Here, we discuss poo.
1 comment:
Though it has been only a couple of days it seems like such a long time since I have seen you. I think I'm going through goofy withdrawl... or maybe work really has become more boring that I thought possible. I hope you night went well. I'll keep pulling for you, you sexy little goober. BBQ my place this week end. Let me know if you are in.
- Drewsta
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