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| un cabaret, music match, rap midi, swearing, vincenzo amelia, insulting jokes, makaveli 2, shawn andrews, danielle von zerneck, literary journal, contests, laurel thornby, jazz, thelast detail, freplyspang, brianne davis, | (The last joke works because it's a 5-speed.)Back story short, I made it in time, which leads me to the real story, where I stop with the dazed& confused (widescreen flashback edition) rhyme.So Wednesday morning, just hours before my flight to NYC, I had to run one last errand. On the way back, I hit a pot hole. Guess what type of tire takes offense to imperfections in the road? Correct. And if there's one ugly dazed& confused (widescreen flashback edition) noise you never want to hear dazed& confused (widescreen flashback edition) from your car, it's the sound of driving on a flat spare tire. Might as well have pulled over and replaced it with a metal Kleenex box.But I didn't. I turned up the radio and kept driving, kind of like the time I hit a kid in a school crosswalk, accidentally dragging him screaming like a human ragdoll for a good two blocks. I made it home by the grace of a strong axle, and parked my newly beat up piece of shit Accord just in time to catch my plane (which fortunately didn't have the same types of problems).Fast |
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| But somehow, up to 3pm, things hadn't really been going my way. You know, one of those days where you run into problem after problem, fixing things that should've worked in the first place, and coming out wondering if any forward progress laurel thornby was even achieved. But the haircut would be my magical turnaround. I had the appointment, and something would get done (good haircuts tend to inspire confidence in other activities as well). I went downstairs to the parking garage to leave, laurel thornby and what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature puncture and one flat back right laurel thornby tire. With a futile breath and so little hot air, I knew in a moment it was time for the spare. More rapid than mechanics, my trunk tools they came, and I jacked, and I screwed, and I screamed things profane: "Fuck you mother fucker! You cunt-licking spare! On lug nuts! On donuts! No time to explain! To the top of the city! For the top of my head! Now drive away! Drive away! Goddammit don't stall!" |
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