You don’t feel like putting up with too much drama today, so you decide to take the road less traveled literally. You drive for awhile trying find scrap as well as something to listen to on the radio.
“Oh shit! NO! Fuckin’ pop shit! What the fuck is happening to this country where some fuckin’ pretty boy who sings like a bitch gets popular? Ain’t fuckin’ right…No! Fuckin’ rap garbage, they need to remember to put the “c” back in front of that brand of…whatever the fuck it’s suppose to be, cause it ain’t music. What the fuck is this? Garth Brooks? Fuckin’ pussy! He ain’t no real country singer! Fuckin’ poser! Ah this’ll do I guess. Yeah!” You say as you finally settle on the “Dinosaurs of Rock” station.
Eventually you have as much success in finding scrap as you do in your recent quest to find a radio station. As you’re struggling to load an old stove into your pick up truck, the wilderness decides to show exactly what it thinks of you as a skunk passes by and sprays you for no apparent reason.
“UGH! Goddammit!” you say, as the skunk goes bounding back into the underbrush.
You stink pretty badly now, though you’ve smelled worse, like that one time you participated in the town’s first and last pork butt eating contest. The gases you and the other contestants were giving off were bordering on noxious that day. Damn shame that small explosion occurred when in the middle of the contest when someone lit a cigarette up, or else you would’ve won. Yep, life just seems to conspire against you from achieving greatness.
Well you could call it a day. You won’t get a lot for this stuff, but you can at least prove to Tina you did something, or you could ignore your own stench as you have so many times in the past, and keep looking.
“Oh shit! NO! Fuckin’ pop shit! What the fuck is happening to this country where some fuckin’ pretty boy who sings like a bitch gets popular? Ain’t fuckin’ right…No! Fuckin’ rap garbage, they need to remember to put the “c” back in front of that brand of…whatever the fuck it’s suppose to be, cause it ain’t music. What the fuck is this? Garth Brooks? Fuckin’ pussy! He ain’t no real country singer! Fuckin’ poser! Ah this’ll do I guess. Yeah!” You say as you finally settle on the “Dinosaurs of Rock” station.
Eventually you have as much success in finding scrap as you do in your recent quest to find a radio station. As you’re struggling to load an old stove into your pick up truck, the wilderness decides to show exactly what it thinks of you as a skunk passes by and sprays you for no apparent reason.
“UGH! Goddammit!” you say, as the skunk goes bounding back into the underbrush.
You stink pretty badly now, though you’ve smelled worse, like that one time you participated in the town’s first and last pork butt eating contest. The gases you and the other contestants were giving off were bordering on noxious that day. Damn shame that small explosion occurred when in the middle of the contest when someone lit a cigarette up, or else you would’ve won. Yep, life just seems to conspire against you from achieving greatness.
Well you could call it a day. You won’t get a lot for this stuff, but you can at least prove to Tina you did something, or you could ignore your own stench as you have so many times in the past, and keep looking.
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- ID: 24524
- Nickname: gowilderness
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