I was in an accident on Friday, totally totaled my car – no matter, no one was permanently hurt.
I had to make a split-second decision: 1) If I hit the car in front me, we’re all dead; 2) If I veer left and hit the concrete embankment on the left side (the driver’s side), than I’m dead (and more importantly, my son has no mother); and 3) If I veer to the right, and hit the concrete embankment, there might be a chance.
So, I picked door number 3, and, fortunately, the “ultra-cute, tri-racial brat” still has a mother - nonetheless, a banged up mother with more scars and bruises than anyone on the Eastern Seaboard but, nevertheless, intact. Plus, probably the most immature adult who has seen more Sponge Bob episodes than any other “adult” in the People’s Republic of America.
I urge a FLAT TAX. FLAT TAX, FLAT TAX, FLAT TAX – should I say it again? Or, are you entirely bored of me. Good.
With love and affection,
HippoParamus / “Cripilina”
P.S. – Thank you Donald and Christopher for taking care of me the day after “the awakening”; for helping me out of my chair when I could barely move; for buying Ibuprofen and Alka Selzter and holding my company when I was in so much physical pain; for making me laugh even though it hurt so much against my rib cage and sternum; and, purely, for your beautiful company.
I will never forget! I will never forget, meine heute fruende!
Donald: “Belt it out; belt it out!!!”
Christopher: I will hire you at the true rate that you deserve (give me 6 months) because, right now, it’s just me, myself, and I.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment