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Please do not read my blog.
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Awesome blog reading discretion has been advised. Don't be mad, Boo.
August 17, 2007
The Quest for the Sacred Ikea Wind-Up Clock (part 1)
This is the story of the Quest for the Sacred Ikea Wind-up Clock. Please read it out loud in your best snotty English accent.
Day 1, Hour 1: I have spent the better part of the afternoon packing my vehicle with supplies for this arduous journey. The Quest will test the limits of my intellegence, wit, and resourcefulness. I thought it best to pack lightly as I was running low on gasoline and The Quest would take me nearly to Vancouver, Washington. I packed a bottle of Aquafina and some KitKats....little did I know the horrors that awaited.....
Hour 4: As I turned onto Clevland avenue, I caught a glimpse of the horrors I would face. Dozens of cars roamed the road in no particular fashion. As I jockied for position, I was nearly accosted by one of the native teen pedestrians.....he looked at me with a sort of evil sneer and I was then subject to what pedestrians call "the shooting of the bird". I felt violated and challanged, but I dare not leave the saftey of my own vehicle lest I be bombarded with shootings of "the bird" and possibly have small rocks thrown at me. And so I press on acutely aware that this may be the last time I ever see my shitty apartment....also the supplies were gone.....I couldn't help it!! I was really hungry and I hadn't drank anything all day!! Don't judge me, damn you.
Hour 12: Entering the freeway on the 207th ramp was particularly difficult. I pulled up behind a Subaru with a driver at the helm who looked many years old to my estimation, but who had apparently only just learned to drive. She took to slamming on her brakes quite frequently with me directly behind her. I had nowhere to go as I-84 west bound was plugged with traffic for miles beyond sight, so I bided my time....meanwhile my gasoline meter showed scarce a half a tank.....things were starting to take a turn for the worse.
Hour 17: The frequent braking became.....well......more fucking frequent. At one point approximately a mile from the I-205 north exit, my vehicle collided with hers as a result of her slamming on her brakes due to a possible imaginary squirrel or something jumping in front of her as there were no vehicles for at least 4 lengths ahead. I quickly exited my vehicle and as she began to exit hers, I caved in her skull with a tire iron I had procured from a stalled vehicle only minutes earlier.....the man had not rolled up his windows after he stalled....the pedestrians found him.....he died fighting and I pried the tire iron from his cold fingers....so anyway I smashed the hag's brains out and stole a bag of Funyons and a Hi-C juice box from her car. This is clearly becoming a fight to the finish.
Hour 23: I gotta pee. Really bad. And Funyons give me gas, but I can't roll down my windows....the pedestrians see all....
.....to be continued.....
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