Selfie like a teenage girl. WHY NOT?!
Against my better judgement, and surely, against the wishes of my bosses the Gold team should they know I was a-tellin' it, here's a story. TMI follows, you've been warned.
I was driving through the great state of Louisiana, and had been on the road for a good handful of hours, up from Tampa Florida. My mind wandered, as oft happens on these drives. THIS TIME THOUGH it wandered to... a naughty place. "Which states of the union," I mused, "Have I spanked the monkey, boxed the bishop, choked the chicken, paddled the pickle, gone solo, cheered for the home team, high-fived the external drive, plucked the manjo, twisted the twinkie, WANKED, in short- jerked off?" Now of course, dear people of earth, I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I have, in the past, done so in Louisiana. On the same subject, I thought of my bucket list, likely a great deal more bizarre than Danny Glover's- and knew that a little self-help (wiiiiiink) while operating a moving vehicle was upon that list. Note I say, 'WAS'. Oh yes, dear Tortugaholic, I resolved then and there to do the thing (My thing. Myself. You get the idea.). I've been told since, in recounting this tale, that having made it nearly 30 years AND NOT knocked (whacked?) it off my list is a surprise for many folks.
SO THERE I WAS! Humming merrily along the interstate, planning my assault on the danglin' tower. I first of course pulled a jacket over my lap, keeping the affair hidden should I pass a randy trucker or bus full of children, or the google street view team (awkwaaaaard). I readied material on my cell phone (god bless the future, and also mobile sites here unnamed), and then turned my thoughts to clean up. I had but three scant napkins from a stop earlier at subway, a bottle still about 1/3 full of green tea I intended to finish, and a bag of chips. Ruling the napkins insufficient, and not wanting to waste the remaining elixir that is that particular brand of green tea, I thought the potato chip bag the best candidate, as a handy receptacle. All prepared, I pulled the bag around my potato and chips, so it could catch the dip. I even raised up a bit off my ass, to further allow gravity to keep the whole endeavor, shall we say, civilized.
Ladies and gentlemen I ACHIEVED VICTORY. Having stroked my ego sufficiently, I was, erm, flattered. Ever vigilant against messes & stains, I pinched the opening of the bag around the base my toy rocket and pulled it down the fuselage.
IT WAS THEN THAT I REALIZED: Using the empty bag of sriracha flavored potato chips was a terrible mistake. Cock sauce compliments many things: but clearly not my thing.
People of earth, I did in the end lose not just the napkins, but also my green tea to clean up. The tea leant a tingle to the whole thing which was not unpleasant. Annoyed, in pain, and let's face it, a little thrilled, I knew immediately: This is a story.
An artists depiction of the madman in question (NSFW, almost certainly.)
