5 November 2011

Thirty Five Minutes To Go


It was yet another Friday afternoon rolling down the highway with the rest of the wage slave cocksucking world. Twenty-twenty-twenty-twenty-four minutes to go, I wanted to get sedated, I was singing to myself when I heard the sirens behind me. I pulled off to the side a little and let the noisy motherfuckers fly by me. Firetruck and an ambulance racing each other to yet another gruesome highway crash up. Lucky for me there was an exit just ahead so I got off the highway onto the smashed up pumpkin littered side roads to avoid the parking lot forming ahead of me.

I changed my tune now that my change of route home would delay happy hour a little. Thirty-thirty-thirty-thirty-five minutes to go, I'm gonna get sedated.

Later I learned on the radio somebody had flipped their car into the ditch. Learn how to drive, motherfuckers.  

5 comments:

Rusty M said...

Ya, learn how to drive, you fuckin' fuckers ...

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

The Dope City Free press is proud to announce we have reached a new low: we have been razzed by a motherfucking umpire!

Rusty M said...

I calls 'em like I sees 'em ...

Keep up the good work; keep posting these blogs!

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

Chimo, Rusty!

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

And, yes Rusty, it is entirely possible we spilled beer on one another during the AAA Canadians' glory years.