Jon | Rory | Anthony
WARNING: The following piece contains gross generalizations, inside jokes, and region-specific references. Enjoy at your own discretion.
Kinda hypocritical of Kid Rock to be all pro-America when you know the minute he turned 19, he was off to Canada to get wasted.
where's my snare?
i have no snare in my headphones
there you go
dangerously suspended above you
subject to the wind
like your dick
when you don't wear underwear
when there's nothing under there
when you just don't fucking care
when you let your pubic hair
oh you breathe all right
windows rolled down
you let the tree exhaust overwhelm you
because it's good air
because the trees are there
for a reason
more trees than the rainforest could ever need
you hide in these trees
you hide from the black man
hide in your brick house
seclude yourself in the back room watching eva
with your friends outside
and your pets by your side
hamsters and a ferret
you would have lions and tigers as well
but you don't live where the black man lives
and when he comes, you will drive away
you will "night time" him and drive away in your american car
your explorer probe taurus
speeding down crooks road
headed someplace safe
because denny's doesn't serve black people
and because the big boy has bad coffee
it is 1:00 a.m.
too late to do anything
too early to go home
too young to gamble
too tired to run for the border
you grow restless
because the midwest has
let you down
but this is the northeast
there is a cat in the middle of the street
you consider running over it
giving the veins on the road some blood to flow through 'em
but you are a vegetarian
so you get on the highway listening to the stooges
"the biz vs. the nuge" is
it is 1:00 a.m. and you are listening to the beasties
exit 69 onto big beaver
you miseryride down coolidge
reading street signs with fog lights
searching for purgatory
13 mph on 13 mile
right on southfield
unprotected left ahead
you park on the side of a curb in beverly hills
48025 not 90210
and fall asleep to the buzzing of cicadas
smoking a clove cigarette
you wake and find that someone has put a blanket on you
your shirt is gone
your car window egged
you look in the back for something to wear
but all you can find is a wife beater that's too large
with abba-zabba stains on it
you wear it anyway
and go get gas
you watch a kid yell "get me the president" into his cell phone
as numbers on the pump increase to multiples of $1.39
and when all is said and done
you enter the mini-mart to buy red pop and apple juice
only to walk out and find your car across the street
in front of a panera
saran-wrapped to an impala
you quickly dispose of the plasticity
but now the headrests are gone
a red-and-blue-haired drama techie with a confederate flag painted on his face approaches you
golf club in hand
and the patriotic man says "you want your headrests back?"
and you say "ye"
and the patriotic man says "on __________ lives a wigger who's always playing counter-strike"
and the patriotic man says "sodomize him well"
and the patriotic man laughs
and lets out an audible fart
and you wonder if such northern barbarian ways are worth the trouble
but you love your car
and you can't live without it
welcome to the motor suburbs
Ironic how the Motor City has better traffic and air than the Happiest Place on Earth. The weather…is another story.
I actually saw people recycle in Michigan too, which is something I wish I could say about southern California. In fact, Tony goes so far as to recycle his pants.
Speaking of Tony (surprise, surprise), six people rode in Jram's five-passenger car one night, requiring one person to sit on the lap of the front side passenger. Rory rode on Jord's lap for a while and then it was my turn to be front side passenger with Tony as my passenger. Instead of sitting on my lap, however, he insisted on squeezing into the back with three other guys.
The raging boner I had probably didn't help.
to be continued