I was just sitting on the porch and some old dude drove past me in a black Smart Car. And when I say “old,” I mean that he looks like he escaped from a nursing home. I mean that he is the precise image I get in my head when I try to picture Death. The only thing missing was the hood.
And as he drove past, I began to wonder, “Is this what Death drives while en route to claim the next person on his You Is Now Deceased list? Is his scyth in the trunk? Does a scyth even fit in a Smart Car?
I shuddered a little. Perhaps because it’s about to rain.
But now I kind of want to find a Smart Car and try to jam a scyth in the trunk. While Henry is bound and gagged in a tight ball like Jeffrey Dahmer’s sex toy.
And now I’m imagining Death skipping Henry – still bound and gagged – like a stone and playing hopscotch.
And now I’m imagining that this is only post #17. OH WAIT, THAT’S REAL. FUCK ME.
Where is my fucking food? Lucky Charms and sweet potato chips are not enough to keep my fingers tapping.
Time for me to search for some supper as well.
I am just hippie enough to think Smart Cars are awesome.