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Self-lixiviated by Zombalaya
November 2021

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November 19, 2021

I got very lucky this morning.

I was driving about 70mph on the interstate and ran over a huge chunk of metal, at speed. Couldn't tell what it was until I just about on top of it anyway.
Things could have been much worse, and I did have to have it towed about 90 miles back home to a local mechanic, and that is done...but curses...

I was about five to ten minutes away from the VA for my appointment, but my stomach had begun hurting, like I needed to poop. I had already passed the nearest Rest Area and was not in the mood to try out any fast food or gas station toilets. I had even gone to the bathroom before I left home, but NOOOOO

I had to have eaten that peanut butter sandwich on sesame seed sprouted bread around 230 in the morning. Just had to.
And I was literally cursing god or whatever God there is about why my stomach was hurting "now!" as I was driving. Why, Why, W-


God either doesn't like peanut butter or being cursed. One or the other.
I apologized and I am truly amazed that I didn't suffer a horrible death. From what I could tell in the milliseconds that transpired before I hit it, when the light finally started hitting it and I could tell it was metal, was that the object was an industrial-sized trailer hitch of some sort. Just huge. Just directly in the middle of my lane.

It tore the splash guard almost completely off from the bottom of the car, punctured something or other than has oil in it (pan, line?), and then whacked the rear right wheel on the way out, which left me driving a damaged soap-box derby car at that point. I was very lucky.

So. No more curses. I know better by now.

(Later, after nap...)

Called the mechanic shop back up since I hadn't heard back from them yet. Talked to the guy I went to high school with. He said I was lucky to not have had the car flip on me. I agree(d).

As I was waking up from my nap I was somehow wondering about L. Gaga's face and if I would sleep with her or not, and then realized the preposterousness of myself even questioning my self about my own damn dimly-lit fantastic idea.
But anyway. Of course I would.
BUT thought got me to thinking back to how when I was a teenager, even an adult in my 20's, how other guys would ask, about almost any female: "Would you fuck her?"

I started laughing to myself this afteroon after the nap, because I came up with the best answer to a question like that: "I'd fuck you if you dressed up like her."

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