My car window won’t roll up.
I’m tempted to leave it in south central for the night, but I have a sinking feeling it wouldn’t be touched with a ten foot pole. Thug-like-car-stealing-people would take one look at it, see the frozen yogurt stain, the window that doesn’t work, the dead grandpa stuff still in it and keep on walking. I’m pretty sure Justine showered twice after the ride I gave her last week. Which is totally understandable considering someone (me) is scared to wash it a lot (ever) because she’s crazy, and afraid she’ll wash her granddad’s essence out of it. Not that dead people usually hang around the car they didn’t drive for years, and as a matter of fact, if my granddad ever did reveal himself to me in our car I’d probably pee my pants while passing out and screaming, “Holy cow fuck pants!”
You’d think it couldn’t get worse until the landscapers start laying vingar/poo manure in front of our office and “accidentally” get some IN MY OPEN WINDOW. I’m a fan of flourishing plants, but I don’t really see how showering my passenger seat with soggy manure, that actually takes on human-like qualities and jumps onto my clothes with incredible accuracy, helps the plants any.
But what do I know? I’m scared to wash my dead granddad out of my car.
2 comments:
wash it! I am sure granddad wants a bath as he cannot woo the women in a funky stinky state in the good ol spiritual meeting establishments.
Can I just say how wrong it is that ogre commented before me? But I digress...
Just so you know, I have absolutely nothing against your dead grandpa, but I think I'll drive whenever we hang out. Of course my car has no air conditioning, so with you in your vinegar/poo pants, it's sure to be a ride to remember.
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