Friday, May 22, 2009

"Dude, where's my car?"

Driving down the most boring country road,
I wonder to myself
"Why is this road so boring?"
The wheat sways in motion with the wind,
the gravel hot from rays of the sun.
These things should make an old boring country road interesting.
Up ahead on the left are some cows.
In 12 seconds you will smell them, in 30 seconds you will see them.
The word “gravel” is just “grave” with an “l” added to the end of it.
I wonder if they’re related. Related like beetles and ladybugs.
A grave is sad, a time to move on, somewhere to put a decaying body.
Gravel could cover this body, fill the empty hole that we put that body in.
Gravel fills the grave.

A human body is complex. A human body is made from one head, two eyes, one nose, one mouth, one chin, one neck, two shoulders, two arms, one chest, one waist, two hips, two legs and two feet. Why are there only one of some things and two of others? How are we “symmetrical” if we have one of some things and two of others? We are not truly symmetrical if things are uneven.

The inside of the body is much more complex than the limbs. Two thousand veins, thirty-ish organs, too many bones to count, hundreds of nerves and tendons, hundreds of muscles, and all of these things allow our human bodies to operate without us even having to do any work. Miraculous.

If you fill the graves with gravel, there will be less change of a zombie outbreak. Soil is soft and smooth and weak to a zombie’s touch. Gravel is hard and rigid and impossible to break through. Maybe we should start filling graves with gravel, just in case. Because you never know.
But I do not believe in zombies. The idea of “the living dead” is so dumb to me, there is just no way that something dead can be alive. If it’s living, it’s living. If it’s dead, it’s dead. You can’t be both, you can’t have everything!


There is something fascinating about the weather and how we can not control it, kind of like how we cannot control life or the clouds or the wind. But I guess that's all weather, except for life. The clouds literally have a mind of their own, floating about, merging with each other, taking different shapes. Sometimes I like to sit and watch the clouds.

One day I was walking around in a wooded forest, frollicing with the gnomes and fairies, minding my own business. It was a warm day, with something a little strange in the air. The gnomes suddenly began to squeal and run around with their arms waving. They knew something was coming. Suddenly a light shines over all of us. It is so bright that I can see through my clothing, yet somehow I wasn't really embarrassed. Because aliens aren't attracted to humans. Anyway, through this light appears a square-shaped space ship, not like one of those flying saucer kind everybody like to envision. It was square and had many colors on the outside of it. Anyway, it lands and parks in a clearing. One of the gnomes indicated that this had happened before, and it did not end well. You see, aliens are bald and ugly and want to look more like humans, so they steal humans, and take their hair. They go for the humans with the best looking hair, so if you decided that day to spike yours up into a mohawk, you are in luck. They do not want you. Yet.
Anyway so the space ship lands and an ugly bald alien comes out of it. This alien actually looks a lot like a human actually, just more wrinkly and kind of has a yellowish hue to his skin. he points to me and says that I have been chosen, they want my hair. I realize that I have absolutely no choice in the matter, because nobody knows what these ugly bald wrinkly aliens are capable of! So he took my hair, and I just felt happy to still have my life and all of my gnome friends.
Turns out this was all a dream and I woke up the next morning to find that I had been in a coma for 13 months and was bald because I had been undergoing chemotherapy treatment. Apparently I had a heart attack the day I found out I had cancer and fell into a coma. The cancer and chemo took my hair,not an alien from a box-shaped space ship. And the gnomes were my little brothers and sisters. And the fairies I still can not explain. But I suppose you're still somewhat conscious when you are in a coma, except nothing is exactly what it is supposed to be.

That story is not true.



One day at a friend's house, my boyfriend could not find his keys. As we searched for them, I finally decided that he maybe dropped them on his way into the house. Sure enough, he did not drop them outside. The keys were still in the ignition, in his car, and his car was running for the two whole hours he was inside. While this was hilarious, I had to wonder what the car did while we were inside for those two hours...
The way I see it, this car went on its own little joyride adventure without us even knowing. Although clearly I am suspicious...
Anyway, what I think happened is the car realized it was still running so it turned the corner, and stopped at the liquor store. It was refused service because after all, you can not drink and drive. So it decided to move on down the street to a drive-thru. After ordering successfully, the car realizes it has no money. This is when the car realizes that it should not be gone for very long, because the owner may realize his keys were missing. At this point the car was in a hurry back to my friends house. This is when the car gets pulled over for speeding. Because nobody was in the front seat when the officer appeared, he assumed that the driver had fled the scene. This caused the car to be shut off while police officers patrolled the area for the runaway driver.
While the police were distracted, a homeless man climbed into the car with the keys in the ignition and started the car. A cop spotted him, so he got out of the car and ran for his life. Assuming this was the runaway driver, the cops followed the homeless man who had nothing to do with the car speeding in the first place. Now that the car was started again and the cops were nowhere near, it headed back to my friend's house. Seconds later, my boyfriend and I came outside and discovered that the car had been running for about two hours while we were inside. He brushed it off and did not think twice about whether or not the car had had its own little adventure, but I sure know better. I am on to you, car.


HOLLY CUELLO

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