This weekend, my parents and I are in Cincinnati to go see the baseball. Along the way, we stopped to get something quick to eat because a) I hadn’t eaten much, and 2) I get fucking cranky when I don’t eat, so see a. We ended up at the first place we saw, which was Taco Bell, which was fine by me, because it gave me another chance to see if they finally used my tweet in their Doritos Locos Tacos packaging.
Anyhow, as we sat there and are our food, which frankly is on the lower end of the “food” scale but whatever I love Taco Bell don’t judge me, my dad said, “oh look, that place there has chicken baskets!” which made us all look out the window to see a local drive-in right next to Taco Bell.
We were so close.
There’s a metaphor in there somewhere, you guys. Our lives are a series of places where we didn’t eat. Concerts we didn’t attend. Roads we didn’t travel. Couches we didn’t fart on…yet. I say that as I fart all over this nice hotel couch.
This thought process leads me to think about all the furniture that’s been farted on, everywhere we all go. Somewhere, you might have sat on hundreds of other people’s farts, stacked on top of one another. Just imagine! Wow. All the hotel beds, all the interview chairs, all the doctor’s office waiting room seats…you’ve been sitting on other people’s farts your whole life. And other people have been sitting on your farts, too. Don’t even act like you’ve never farted on someone else’s furniture.
So, in conclusion, and because I am very tired and would like to go to bed now, I would like to say this: eat somewhere new and exciting. Go ahead and buy tickets to that concert. Walk down that road, even if it’s all bramble-y.
FART ON ALL THE COUCHES.
Tony’s, home of the Titanburger, and probably a great place to get gas.