I haven’t written in a while. In all honesty, I lost the desire to write. And yes, I could’ve sat down and written a bunch of shit, but I didn’t want to punk you like that. So I took some time off.
But good news, bitches! I’m back!
I say that a lot. “I’m back.”
When in fact I never really went anywhere. I’ve been here. No fan mail. No questions. No nothing. I would love to make this bitch into an advice column but apparently no one needs advice.
So let’s see…what’s going on…
So I almost perished in a terrible car wreck the other day. I was driving to work, carefully, of course. Going 80 in the left hand lane. When some asshole in a Honda, racing a little red Corvette, decides he wants to be in my lane. Exactly where I am. Like, right at that second.
So I slam on my horn…nothing. He’s still coming. So I violently swerve out-of-the-way coming within inches of the guard rail. Maybe even centimeters…I know I was close.
I can’t recall if I was pumping the breaks or hitting the gas. No idea. My left leg was so tense I get a charley horse in my calf! OW!
Then my car starts fishtailing. Swinging back and forth and back and forth and all I can see is my hands on the wheel (Jesus, where the fuck where you, bro? Could’ve used some help!) going back and forth, back and forth. And I keep thinking, “What do they say about turning your wheel into a skid? Oh fuck this. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
I was almost positive my SUV was going to tip over. Or worse. I was just preparing for…the worst really. I’ve never had my car go that out of control. So…whatever I did worked, motherfuckers! Because I lived to tell the tale.
I literally cannot believe that car didn’t hit me. That I didn’t hit the guard rail. That someone didn’t slam into me from behind. Or the side. Or that I didn’t slam into a car in front of me. It was like I was all alone. And I got the car under control and then….held back the puke until I got to work.
That asshole ended up in the far right lane and got off at the exact next exit. which was like 1/4 mile away from where he almost killed me.
Oh and funny story…I have a satellite radio and was listening to Howard Stern (the west coast feed). When I slammed on my breaks (I guess), my bag went flying onto the floor and must’ve hit the radio on the way done. Because while I’m dealing with a painful charley horse and trying to get this friggin’ behemoth of a vehicle back onto the road… the station changed to the Playboy Channel.
And all I can think is “Great. I’m going to crash and they are going to need the jaws of life to get me out. And while they are doing that, the Playboy Channel is going to be blaring in the background. FML.
Just so you know, I’m going to try to write some more. I promise. But I’m also going to try to get serious about my book starting in November. I would appreciate any support you can give me. Moral, verbal or otherwise. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do. I mean, I remember being in 9th grade and instead of passing notes to my friends that said, “Hi I’m bored. Did you see Fresh Prince of Bel Air last night?” I would write stories, wild ones, about us and the boys we liked. Not wild like sexy. Just wild like…fantasy and knight in shining armor. Those were some good stories!
So now, I’m going to write a really long note to you guys…and I hope that when I’m done, you’ll actually read it. Like buy it for your Kindle or your iPod or whatever you are using nowadays.
Alright, that’s all. I gotta go watch Survivor! (Seriously, how does no one but Michael recognize Blair from Facts of Life? Jesus, are we THAT old?)
Take the good, take the bad,