Going Over That Big Bump

I’m driving down the road and as usual I’m thinking the big thoughts. (I do not have small thoughts.) (My smallest thought ever was probably peanut butter and spicy ranch pretzel chains and that still netted me nine large on Kickstarter.) I’m distracted by the gorgeous day, smooth and curvaceous, zaftig and callipygous, smelling like deodorant that smells like mouthwash’d makeouts in a freshly scythed meadow.

So the electronic road sign doesn’t really register aside from the word DAMAGE which of course puts “Damage Inc.” in my head. And I am, creepily enough, chanting “Dy! Ing! Time! Is! Here!” right before noticing this huge bulbous hillock in the asphalt ahead, as if God himself tripped and wrinkled up the road and he was all eh fuck it and just left it for me to hit at like fifty miles per.

I had a good half second to see it coming and do nothing about it. And in that moment I felt truly alive. And you know what? Feeling truly alive is the worst. You ever seen a baby come out a vagina? First off, barf, but secondly, that baby is never like hey guys what’s up c’mon gimme a hug! That baby is truly alive with no pills or video games to provide a comforting membrane between it and life. So it just starts belting out horrific shrieks which is what I did while my car caught air and which I suddenly stopped doing when it smashed back down to earth and all breath was forced from my body.

Through every available orifice!

I won’t sugarcoat it. I write real. I write truth. It’s not in my soul to lie with words. Wish it was, man. [exhales cigarette smoke] Wish it was.

Anyway my tires did not explode and I was not thrown through the windshield but I still felt like I’d experienced something pretty real so I went home at a reasonable speed and took a long time deciding which pills and which video games would really hit the spot.

» Rating: THREE SEXY LADIES