Bumping on the Road
Let us bump along the road. Taking the potholes with the mounds of dirt and setting our shock absorbers to nil.
It will be a delicate balancing act between the raw eggs on our heads and the jugs of water carefully poised on our noses.
But let us bump along the road together anyway, since that’s what roads are for, or so a roving somethingdactyl once told me.
I don’t know what roads were used for before cars and horses were invented. Maybe you just rolled along them like a sideways worm?
I’d rather be a person in a car than a worm on a road. People can eat hamburgers, and worms can’t. That alone should be enough of a reason to choose being a person if you ask me.
Some people ask me about laziness, but I usually ignore them. Answering is too hard.
I think I might have misjudged you. You seem just fine from the way you’re bumping along the road with me right now. Let’s drink some maple syrup and write a song about Hindu quails and their favorite worms of all time.