The last Harry Potter book coming out, my oldest is a big fan, so her and the wife went to the big gala Barnes & Noble "let's con you into buying shit after midnight" brouhaha locally. I took the other young one down to my mom's just to visitify for a few hours, so the little one didn't feel like she didn't get special shit too. We ate Reese's peanut butter cups and she drank a lemonade while I drank my quart. On the way out of town, I had to piss, so I pulled into a coin laundry parking lot to tuck behind some junk cars. Getting back in, I cut my headlights on, and this is what it saw. I knew I was living my life in the correct pattern at that moment.
This is a car Boogie Brown's dad gave him that Boogie Brown wrapped around a guard rail one night. He keeps it, even moving it from two different places, because he has convinced himself he will fix it since it was a good car when his dad gave it to him. It sits behind his slanted house. We took it to Pennsylvania/Ohio/West Virginia one time because my Volvo's timing chain went out like one hundred yards from my driveway as we were leaving to go to Pennsylvania. Good timing. We drove Brown's Saturn, which had no muffler and no radio, so we played tapes in my shitty jobsite boombox that ate batteries upon pushing play, so everything dragged. We listened to regular rap tapes and it was like DJ Screw. By the time we got to Pennsylvania, this sound made perfect sense to us. Pennsylvania liquor laws did not. I only wanted a 12-pack motherfucker. Or why can't I mix-and-match cheap 12-packs into a case, so long as I buy a whole case?
This lounger was lounging along a back road near an estate I've done a lot of work at last summer, and it made me want to buy it a lot. Sometimes, when I wish I was rich like any fool does, I think about how retarded I'd be, which is why I'll never be rich. Because I'm retarded now with little bits of money, meaning I'll never save it up to accumulate into a cushion for me against all you fuckers.
It's old timey time in scenic Scottsville, Virginia, at the 4th of July Parade. Motherfuckers is proud to be American on that day, wearing their Old Navy t-shirts with flags, not realizing that using flag imagery as clothing is just as disrespectful as burning it according to old school flag standards. One day, if things get too tough and I flip out like I often imagine in my mind happening down to precise details, maybe I'll combine the two and burn a bunch of motherfuckers wearing flag t-shirts on 4th of July. (Not really, in case you're some police state fucker searching for shit to hassle people about. Also, stop tapping my phone; I think it's slowing down my internet connection, making it hard for me to steal music online.)
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