Kelly Rued, Etcetera
Insufferable as NASCAR, indomitable as moon prospectors, metal as the wind—such is our love.
Welcome, svelte cybernauts, to my personal scrapblog. Some people say, "you waste so much time looking at stupid shit on the internet. When you're on your death bed, think how you'll wish you could get that time back." People who win at the internet don't go out like that. We'll have a lifetime of stupid internet shit saved in our scrapblogs so we can cherish it ON our death beds. Remember that great lol you had in June 1998? I don't either. Don't let your lolz continue to deteriorate like your aging, senile brain. Get a tumblelog and win at the internet. - PSA by KRetc.
Similar story with my daughter in the car with her grandmother driving. My mom is an innovator in offensive road ragism. Her exclamations are not merely profane but transcend to a higher plane where every imaginable epithet mates into a poignantly futile cacophony of contempt (which nobody can ever fucking hear besides her loved ones inside the damn car).
I’m so used to it, I don’t even mind, but we all freak out whenever she tries to roll down her window and actually communicate with other drivers. I’m pretty sure that’s how she’s going to die.
Today, a car floated slowly into my lane from the left with no signal. She gazed at the right turn like it was going to kiss her. “What the FUCK, lady?” I shouted, slamming on my brakes. Two seconds later I hear a tiny voice in my back seat, “What fut, YADY?!” My 22 month old son’s first full sentence. FML
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