The storm was fierce. I was truckin' along southbound on Route 95. Trees, barely visible, were thrashing wildly. The universe was a giant mosh pit.
Something white slammed into my windshield, spidering the glass.
"SHIT!" I hollered.
The white thing turned out to be furry. My passenger side window was open; the fur crawled across the windshield and threw itself into my truck like a living mop.
It was a rabbit. It sat there gasping, then turned to me.
"You believe in Jesus?" it asked.
"Why?"
"You ran over him about five miles back and he's fuckin' pissed."
_
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
100 Below: Volume 15
1 comment:
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Dewed! I was actually visiting to ask you to quit being so fuggin' serious, because nobody on this planet makes me laugh more than you. I've NEEDED some laughs of late.
ReplyDeleteSo what happens? I come here, and it's non-stop Hominidal madness, making my heart soar like sprayed enema fluids!
I snorted, chortled, chuckled, choked on my own spittle, and farted so hard it seemed eerily solid near the last part. (It's ok, though, I checked, long and lovingly.)
BTW, the Buddhist Dog TOTALLY rules!
I'm off, in ways beyond description.
Arnold, the placid musroom.