May 5, 2010
Look, I live in enough terror as it is. Walking out to my car is an exercise is "What will go wrong this time?" Will my door stick? Will I have to pull out the screwdriver to get it open? Will my car start? Will it overheat? Will something burst open in the engine? What am I leaking today?
So I don't need anything ramping up the stress level. I get in my car, open the windows, take down my window shade, put the key in the ignition, and I hear something…rustling in the back of my car. I am instantly 5 feet outside of my car and yelling at it. Turns out to be a bird. Why is there a motherfucking bird in my motherfucking car? Yes, I left the windows cracked about an inch. And some fucking Houdini-Bird decided to get in there, get stuck, shit all over the place, and only leave when I opened both fucking doors for his majesty. For reals? I mean the inside of my car is not very big. It's not like the cabin in the Millenium Falcon, you can not fit Chewbacca in there, ok? So I don't want to have a close fucking encounter with some weird ass little bird. I saw the Hitchcock movie, that's close enough for me, ok? So in the future I will never leave my windows cracked if you promise to stay the hell outta my car. Thanks.