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Showing posts from November, 2015

Keep Driving

A Bad Extended Metaphor To Mark My Birthday (Inspired by Springsteen and a giant margarita.) If life really is a highway, this was the year I was attacked by uncontrollable diarrhea between exits on the Pennsylvania Turnpike while simultaneously smearing a deer and getting sideswiped by an overpriced, gas-guzzling SUV. It was pretty bad. So I stood there for a while, at the side of Life Highway — covered in my own feces, deer guts plastered all over my car, tires blown out and steam bellowing from my radiator. And I won't lie. I cried. A lot. No one wants to stand along the side of Life Highway covered in their own shit and something else's shit, watching all the happy people singing with the radio and smiling and having a great time while you literally cannot imagine a time when you will not be standing by the side of the road — alone — covered in shit and crying. But then the cavalry arrived from the access road. A friend brought some Charmin wipes and fresh clot