a big ego, a furrowed eyebrow, two hands on the steering wheel, and a padal to the metal... i don't let the smoke sting my eyes that rises from the square hanging in my mouth. i think to myself i should prolly put my shirt on, or at least have brought some shoes... maybe my globes.
i have nowhere to go but i'm winning the race, cuz noone drives faster than i, but sigh... driving fast's dumb, see? only ends things for me, only wastes my precious fuel, cuz i'm a tool.
then i realize the radio's off. and it's just me and my machine, working to run away together, hoping for that freak accident that will send us both, my truck and i, in a ball of flames hurtling towards (well hopefully at some kinda republican momument, like perhaps the ronald reagan library in simi valley) something that will spell ultimate demise. ehh...
but i've had falt tires before. a blow out at 90 miles per hour, yawn city in a big ass truck.
the only kinda car problems i ever face, are the kind yer too lazy to erase, like this case... of broken CD player that i'm filing. mega miling. rhyming is fun, when there's no porpse to why it's done. mon. bun. antidisestablish - mentary - UNNN...
askldjaklsdjasl rhyme that bitches.
this blog post sucks.
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