I am offorded the luxury of contributing to the Mighty TDC on the weekends. Thank you Richie, for your belief and trust.
Badass.
You may have noticed that the true stories series I have been writing for TDC always involve Cars, Car Crashes, and Punk Rock music.
It's simply this:
I have always been infatuated with the ideology of the Freedom of the U.S.A.
We have a love of the automobile. There is no where else in the whole world where you can take a spin, go where ever you like, for as long as you like, in any direction at all.
Also, I have been in many car crashes, but always somehow survive.
Car crashes: sometimes, cars were not actually involved.
But there always seemed to be a crash of some sort.
That is why these true tales seem to always involve cars, as well as crashes.
That is why the music I choose to illustrate my tales involve them.
Thank you, Richie. You've unleashed this beast. God Help You, Sir.
God Help Us All.
Hey there, you TDC enjoyer.
Press play, do what you have to do in order to get your head into the improper frame of mind, and follow me into the depths of insanity.
I'll lead you back up and out afterwards.
That's my job.
It seems to have always been...
SONG
This is for an 80's shit and giggles.
DO NOT USE. ALthough I like it. Benjamin Orr was a better singer than Ric Ocasek.
Here's another 80's song, one to use in later chapters, when I had to get the fuck out of Fuckno,CA, and my brothers, and one girl, wanted me to stay. I almost married that chick. She didn't want me to leave, but she told me to go ahead, do what I had to.
And, I had to.
I can never go back to Fuckno, ever again.
You will see why.
On another note,
Thank goodness that I married the one I have. Even if she hates this sort of 80's music, and calls it the "Gayties."
LOL!
God love her.
Here's the sort of song I will probably use. It's pretty cool. I quite like JET. Always have.
Sean could not start the fucking Jeep. The other two of we four brothers were laughing their asses off in this new "realty," and they were quite distracting.
Apu walked over to the front, and peered out of the double glass doors of the 7-11.
He had the wireless phone in his hand, about to do some dialing. He looked concerned.
Ya think?
Now, mind you, "wireless phone" means the old style, really a landline, not a cell phone. No one had those things back then, except rich guys.
Good thing. We might have buzz-called folks.
And we were off in another Land.
Another Realty.
Sean found the right key, jammed it in, and turned it.
The Jeep rumbled awake, which was quite comforting to hear and feel...
...Until the radio came on. It blasted the music we had been jamming to when we arrived at this portal, this 7-11, just before the ZID kicked in.
Sean looked up at Apu, then he looked at me with wide eyes, with wide pupils.
Apu pulled the phone up to his dark face, and he began to press buttons. Then his hand hovered over the phone for a moment. It appeared that he was waiting to press the "call" button.
I shut the radio off and looked back at the other two, in the rear seats of the open-air Jeep.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU ASHOLES!"
They did. I reached over and grabbed Sean by the Fuckno, Californication Bullard High School Football Jersey with both hands and I looked him right in the eye.
This here moment would be replayed again, in other situations, and under the influence of other chemicals, but it would always connect us.
Every time. I became the "Navigator" of this new land, this new realty.
"Sean. You can do this. Look at me. LOOK at me."
His face stopped looking all panicky for a moment.
"It's me. No matter what you think is going on, I believe in you. This is all just bullshit. We can see though it, underneath it. Don't you agree?"
Sean straightened the hell up. He remembered who he was.
He was a huge young man who broke faces. He always crossed the line, and came back without serious injury, without penalty, but with victory, of a sort.
And, unintentionally, I was the cause of his further de-evolution.
You will witness this de-evloution of Sean in future chapters, do not doubt.
De-evolution has a shorter nickname.
It is DEVO. It was the 80's. Don't look at me that way.
SO,
Sean got his shit together, which was quite amazing to see.
He put that bitch in reverse, looked over his shoulder, and glared at those two assholes behind us.
"Keep Your Fucking Dick Sucking Holes Clamped Shut You Mother Fuckers."
Sean got us the hell out of there.
Yee fucking Haw.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Join me tomorrow for an explanation of how we crashed into a drainage ditch full of water. It will be quite elucidating, I promise you.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
It's always been this way.
No comments:
Post a Comment