Must Get Going
Well, I think it’s time. I think I need to get going. Pack up my things — clothes, CDs, roosters, memories, etc — put them in the back of my car, say my goodbyes, and hit the road. It’s that time. Two years in one spot doing the same thing day after day is just far too long. Man wasn’t built to stay in one place for longer than that. It’s just common science fact, I’m sure if you read a book you’ll find out all about it.
I don’t blame you for sticking around, though, even after I leave. After all, when you stick around it’s easier to buy raffle tickets from roving raffle ticket salesmen. It’s also much easier to collect your raffle winnings when you’re still in town. Otherwise I’m pretty sure they just burn your prizes in a big bonfire if they haven’t been claimed in five years. So there’s that.
And then there’s that shrine to Don Imus that you’ve been working on for all these years. I think you should finish it. Draw some nappy-headed Mexicans on the sides and you’ll have a talk show host monument for the ages. Your place in history will be guaranteed.
But for me, I must go. I’ll be like a spatula, racing along the road. You have to imagine that the road is a cookie sheet, and the other cars on the road are fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies. Then I can flip them right off the road with my special spatula powers. That’s one of the coolest parts of giving in to your wanderlust and beginning the unplanned and neverending road trip.
Not to mention all of the chocolate chip cookies that you get to eat when the paramedics peel those cars off of the guardrails. That’s just a yummy side benefit. Mmm, cookies. I eat you up, cookie! Get in my mouth and let my teeth have their way with you!