Vague Insanty 042

So you're a drunk laser-cat and your engine is exploding. Got a cheap-ass car and the fucker is imploding. It's got three and a half tires and only one axel, looks sort of like a rust heap of crap held together with duct tape. It's not the fastest moving thing on the road. In fact, it can only do five miles an hour in a high speed zone.

And so you see this is why my automobile was sold by a punk for three bucks, a smile and kiss. So many crisscross safety pins in their nose I didn't know if they were a dude or a chick but they smelt like motor oil and had bright pink hair, wore a denim jacket a Ramones t-shirt, ripped leather pants and leopard Keds. It was twisted it was messed up, they made me a glass of cool lemonade and went to a shrine built for Satan and started to hum the 60s theme to Batman starring Adam West and the Bat-mobile and that faggy-ass Robin dude.

Walking home I wondered if the lemonade was tainted with LSD because people were getting shivved right in front of me but I'm smiling and talking to my pet frog, and the dude behind the counter at the 7-11 was god.

And I sort of think I got ripped off with this piece of shit car, but it's a used Pinto and it's gone so far. It's got more miles than a Saturn V rocket and insurance on this puppy was only two dollars and seventy-three cents.

So I'm going to cruise through the 'hood tonight wearing cheap old Nikes and carrying a broken steering wheel -- maybe they'll all think my car is invisible, then I would really get lucky.