December 15, 2004
I taste miscarriage!
One year ago this month, I was headed to a titty bar. The timing belt broke in my car, Rhonda, but still made it to see some titties. I never got the car fixed. Jump ahead to December 7th, 2004.
This is my new car. Well, it's a picture of a model of my car. Mine is white, like my penis. It costs me 30+ dollars to fill up the tank. I can fit 17 japanese people in back. It has maplights. I have AM/FM stereo, but I don't know how to set the presets (yea I've tried holding down the button faggots, that's what everyone suggests) so I just know that KRXO is 7 clicks to the right of NPR.
I had to take a greyhound bus up to Muskogee, Oklahoma, where I waited 4 hours in the rain. It sure is a swell place!
I bought this car for a good price from a respectable guy, a friend of my father. My dad and I knew the car needed new tires, but we never had time to stop by the Wal-Marts to put 'em on. Also my sister takes about 92% of my father's income and blows it on eightballs of coke and black male strippers.
In the first 100 miles I already got to experience my first crisis in the 1988 Cadillac Brougham. I had a blowout on Interstate 40 near Chromwell, Oklahoma. I pulled to the side of the road as the back left tire was throwing treads all over the back tire well and beating it up pretty good. I get out, look at it like I know what the fuck to do. Turns out I just had to walk 1/4 of a mile to a tire place.
Katie and Sayward both jumped in the trunk when they first saw it. They both fit.
Finals are just about done and it feels great. I have till January 18th to try to get high school chicks to sleep with me in the backseat. I actually have after that, but I can just dedicate all my time to it since the semester is over.
I have devised a plan. I have a friend whom I haven't spoken with in about 3 months. She's not talking to me for an unknown reason. I sent her a message on Facebook telling her that my mom died. Now my other part of the plan entails her messaging me back saying "oh really I'm so sorry" -- And then I can tell her 'Hey fuck you for not talking to me" and I know she'll be listening.
ps, my mom didn't die.
Now message me if you wanna drive my caddy! It has a sheep skin wheel cover and the back is big enough for us to make out in!!