iowa or bust

It's 10:30 PM. The car is full and my room is empty. The boxes are closeted, books are shelved, duffel bags crammed together. Tomorrow I'm going to get in my car, slam the gas pedal down, back out of my driveway at 45 freakin' miles per hour, and blaze like a white hot lightning bolt down 80, watching the ever widening cone of disintegrated car windows blow outward from my car's sonic boom. I'll tear past chicago, stopping at the oasis highway restaurant beyond the city's western suburbs, face my guitar amplifier east, and play my signature megapower chord - the chord of apocalypse, created by inverting the chord of life and adding a flat fifth above it, and when that electricity gets picked up through the guitar and blasted out the amp at ten thousand million percent amplification, people are going to pay attention. [Ya wanna know why? Cuz it's a friggin' tube amplifier, that's why. If you don't know what that means, your have the innate value of a slug.] And that chord is going to blast like a tidal wave of sonic destruction over the windbag city of chicago. It's going to be the sound of ten thousand million unhappy orangutangs that got steroids injected into their vocal cords, screaming after being cut off in the insane chicago traffic for the umpteenth time today. Do you think the engineers in chicago built buildings to withstand that sort of sonic onslaught? Two words: total annihilation. People who tolerate four hours of meaningless bumper to bumper traffic everyday so that they can meander through their braindead jobs don't design buildings that can survive powerchords.

I do not tolerate four hours of bumper to bumper traffic. I do not tolerate four minutes of bumper to bumper traffic. I simply do not tolerate bumper to bumper traffic. And other drivers know that. When people feel my chi energy flowing from my car's front bumper, the vast reservoirs of potential energy created by my infinite impatience and illimatable wrath, they sorta get out of the way. So as Chicago disintegrates behind me, I'll be back in the car, accelerating into greater and greater speeds until time slows down, because I want to eat dinner at grandma's house, and it's a 12 hour drive to Des Moines.

And when I get there, I'm going to get a good nights rest, drink some tea, listen to a little jack johnson on my iPod, and eventually I might read some russian literature. It sounds very peaceful doesn't it? Don't relax; I keep the tubes on my amplifier warm at all times.

Okay well it's my bedtime, fortunately my words will continue to stream around the globe through cyberspace, so I can continue my worldshaking from the confines of my lovesac.