So this is why people get jobs and take the train
Bills are raining down upon me like a thousand tiny fingers covered with battery acid and pointing accusations. My car insurance is $1000 per month, which explains why Bernadette wanted to settle out of the agent's office. Getting a new license and registration is likely to cost upwards of $200. The car, she's making noises.
I want to push my go-kart into the ocean and come back to my house for some good old-fashioned curling up into a ball. I'll take out all indentifying characteristics. I'll remove my bullethole stickers. I'll scrape my skin flakes and excrements from under the driver seat. I'll walk back to my bed clutching my rusty spare tire and the little sailboat which hangs from my rearview if it means I don't have to clean out my savings account and eat egg noodles and avocado for six months.
I want to push my go-kart into the ocean and come back to my house for some good old-fashioned curling up into a ball. I'll take out all indentifying characteristics. I'll remove my bullethole stickers. I'll scrape my skin flakes and excrements from under the driver seat. I'll walk back to my bed clutching my rusty spare tire and the little sailboat which hangs from my rearview if it means I don't have to clean out my savings account and eat egg noodles and avocado for six months.
2 Comments:
Bernadette!
Yow, that's a hefty car insurance load. $12,000 a year? That's a new motherfucking car right there. But I guess a new car would merit an even bigger insurance bill, no?
Sell it, move to the city, drive Craig's awesome white '80smobile.
I solve problems.
No, no, silly bucket, it's $1,000 per six months. More like $1100. God, that's depressing. If it was $12,000, I'd shoot myself in the driving foot.
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