White trash…Ka-Bash!

Yeah. So today was interesting. In the midst of running errands I was waiting in line to get my car washed. So I was jamming out to some Lords of Acid, and snorting coke off the dashboard (kidding…it was Special K :P), and there was this loud impact sound and my butt lurched forward. You know the feeling…it’s like when you’re at work. So, I got out of my car and saw a tire lying by my car, with the rim still in it. There was a Land Rover behind me, a Joe Blow dude-man got out with a perturbed look on his face as he frowned at his bumper and gazed toward the nearby street.

Following his squinty gaze, I saw a piece of shit car against the curb, sans front wheel. It had flown off the car, and played a little “Pong” between me and Dude-Man’s S-You-Vee. But what makes this story special is the driver of the broken down rust bucket. It was this tall guy in his 30’s, like 6’4 with his cowboy heels, and quite the scraggly mullet going. He looked extra special in his dirty wife beater and his “Def Leppard” ripped to shit faded jeans that were held together by little more than Jack Daniels stains. Chances were he’d have to call his bitchy fat trailer park woman to bum a ride and come get him. She’d berate him, his job, his lack of cock, and his very existence. All things near and dear to Mullet Man would be ripped a new asshole on the way home, and he’d have to keep his chewing tobacco stained lips sealed shut, or there would be no “pudding” for him in the near future. Fuck. I almost felt bad for the guy. Almost.