2000

they were driving ok and he had this really awesome story idea well umm
ok
not really a story idea per say becuz umm like well my [i mean the dude's] brain refuses to write stories anymore truism umm like that creative process was murdered by the INTERNET truism derive your own meaning from what i just said man but anyway to get back on track there was like a hillbilly guy ok and he had like an old astro van that was two tone [filth and rust] and the minivan was jam packed full of white trash accoutrements [blogger btw does not think accoutrements is a word or maybe it thinks i misspelled that shit becuz it was lightnin fast with the red line bizness but i indeed did not misspell a gotdamn thing becuz i checked fuckin google twenty hundred times to make sure hops]

anyway

the hooptie van was filled with like broken shop vacs and floor buffing machines and thou shalt not steal milk crates and half-deflated sex dolls [ok that part is a lie] and vietnam-era macdonalt's bags and empty sprite bottles and empty copenhagen cans all the way up to the front two seats which were occupied by the skinny hillbilly dude and his son and the dad had a confederate flag bandana tied around his head like a trailer park pirate or some shit [ahoy] and his son had no teeth just kidding i don't know that for sure baby girl but that shit would be totally funny if it was true right i mean like hilarious only in a strictly social commentary manner of speaking

[you know your boy ty does not judge]

anyhoo the hillbilly dude was in the left lane at the light but needed to get over to the right so he could turn into lowe's and the car next to him on the right well not a car an SUV actually had an old african dude in it [bishop tutu] and umm

well

bishop tutu's SUV was nicer and more newish than the minivan and he let the hilljack get in front of him and the white trash dude said THANKS BUD all loud like two times in a row and then waved twice just in case the african mofo had OCD or some shit and was into that type of repetition and

the non-story writin guy i was telling you about earlier was sitting behind them in the car with a beautiful girl [her work car nice job i know] well he said check out desmond tutu and the hillbilly and the girl laughed and said you always say the funniest shit and the guy smiled and oh yeah there was a baby crying in the back seat and it sucked becuz the taco bell run was most likely going to be nixed becuz of said screaming and to take his mind off it the fella [hero] in the passenger seat was like man bishop tutu and the hillbilly would be an awesome story name and the girl said yeah and the light changed and they drove away and the dude

and here is the fucked up part -

he knew he would never write that story. just like he never wrote a million others in the past [comma]

and will most likely never write a million more in the future.

pathetic right? i mean. all he thinks about are words but yet he never types any.

whatever.

i love you baby. i hope your day goes ok. see you after work.

tyb