Dear Facebook Diary (7/20/12)

Tomorrow night is Cruise Night here in Kearney Nebraska. It is the one night of the year when 90% of the members of my community temporarily gain an extra chromosome, remove the sleeves on their shirts, and roam the streets like remorseless cyborgs that are fueled by alcohol and drawn to the flame decals poorly pasted on the sides of crappy restored cars. Seriously, the main streets and sidewalks become overloaded with howling hambeasts that find the utmost enjoyment in their lives by watching outdated cars drive by at very slow speeds. I partake in this night of retardation celebration with great zest. I peel off my shirt, strut my hot shit with cheap booze in my hand, body check bros that so much as blink in my direction, and dance my pecs before the eyes of on looking jailbait. It is truly a night of rejoice.

 

I worked at Jerald’s Pork Engine Parts across from campus tonight and I have to work there again at 8:00AM tomorrow morning. I was planning on buying a big bottle of cheap vodka after work tonight and when I arrived home I could not find my debit card. I tore apart my already torn apart poopy apartment searching for my only access to money and survival. I wrangled up some quarters from my silver colored coin jar and not my copper colored coin cup and managed to find $14. I drove back to Jerald’s Pork Engine Parts, I call him Jerry, and I exchanged the $14 and another $6 that I had in my pocket for a twenty-dollar bill. Jerry gets raging pissed when employees exchange assloads of change for cash, so he demands that we put them into a plastic baggy and label how much money is in it. Well, I’m not a drug dealer so I don’t have any plastic bags, so Jerry will find a nice little Tupperware container full of change and a couple of bills when he does the books tomorrow. That is unless I end up doing the books in the morning.

 

So I took my twenty-dollar bill over to Bill’s Liquor and exchanged half of it for the finest bottle of vodka that can be found in a plastic bottle, Skol vodka. I would have bought Country Club vodka but I find the coloring on the label to be a little off putting. I then drove to IGA or Sun Mart or Apple Market or whatever the fuck they’re calling it these days to buy myself something to mix it with. I bought a six-pack of Diet Mountain Dew and a six-pack of Coca-Cola Zero. Even when I drink to the point of losing my memory, I never lose my concern for how many calories I’m consuming, as both of those fine soda drinks have zero calories but are still bursting with flavor. After all of my purchases I still had $2.78 in my pocket. God bless America.

 

I drove out of the grocery store parking lot and pulled up to the streetlight, which was red. I looked to my right and made eye contact with a young man that was sitting in the passenger seat of his friends white S-10 Blazer. I’m not an expert on antique cars but I’d say it was manufactured in the early to mid 2000’s. The driver of the SUV beast leaned over and looked at me… and then he revved his engine.  This was a big mistake on his part.

 

My 2005 Chevy Malibu LS may look like a four door mother mobile that was built for excursions to Chucky Cheese and Farmer’s Markets because that’s exactly what it is, but what this little pansy assed high school kid didn’t know is that my Malibu has got 200 horses under its hood that tend to get spooked and run whenever they see a green light. I smiled at him and looked forward, waiting for the light to change. My dad had always told me that my lead foot would either get me to the finish line at the Indy 500 or land me in jail. He said that it was up to me to control my talent for racing cars. I am able to make any automobile of any size bend and move to my will, and I can turn any vehicle into a finger of God by using it for either good or evil. So there is a huge amount of responsibility that weighs down on me every time my foot touches a gas pedal. I think most people would fall to their knees trying to carry a burden of that gravity, but somehow I manage to hold it while keeping my chin up.

 

The light turned green! Unbeknownst to the courageous driver of the S10 Blazer, I had shifted the intent of my Malibu monster into neutral. I revved my engine as loud as it could whilst going nowhere, and the Blazer zipped through the four-way crossing at speeds reaching twenty-five miles per hour. A police car turned the corner and followed him but I’m not sure if the kid was pulled over or not. I wasn’t in the mood for racing tonight. For fuck’s sake I have to go to work at 8:00AM tomorrow and my heart would have been pounding well into the midnight hour if I had gotten myself wrapped up in a heated battle between V6 engines before going to bed. Also, I’m not twelve and racing mediocre cars is the only thing that’s gayer than receiving anal sex. And when I got home, I found my debit card in the pocket of my gym shorts.

 

Speaking of anal sex, a man shot up a movie theater during the midnight showing of Batman last night. I’m calling it “The Dark Knight Crisis”. It happened at the Century 16 Theater that was just up the road from where I used to live. It’s really fucked up because three of the known victims were a six-year-old girl, a nine-year-old girl, and a three-month-old baby. What’s even more fucked up is that it was a midnight showing of a three-hour movie and parents were taking their adolescent and nearly newborn children to see it. I blame the psycho for the shooting but I blame the shooting of the children on the economy, because children wouldn’t have been at the theater if the parents would have had enough money to pay for babysitters. But really, that fucking nutcase should be sentenced to having his eyeball removed with a soupspoon and then skull fucked by Shaquille O’ Neil four times per week until Shaq can’t get it up anymore, and then Chris Brown would take Shaq’s place. That’s a weird punishment, but I really would like to grab that guy by the neck, look him in the eye, and tell him, “I really-really-really wanted to see The Dark Knight Rises in the theater, and now you’ve made me want to wait until it comes out on DVD!”

 

That isn’t funny, because what that guy did was extremely fucked up.

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