She was chewing Wintergreen, the bane of all gum. I've always equated chewing it to chewing cud, only worse. Much, much worse. Well, she was going to town. I mentioned (despite trying to avoid conversation with her as it's like opening a flood gate, only without all the excitement a real floodgate would cause...i.e. some) my feelings on it.

"Oh, I know, it tastes like 2000 Flushes, but it really freshens your breath".

Yeah, that's what I want; breath that smells like toilet water. As if I don't already have enough problems.

blech
I'm on the road and behind a car. A bumper sticker glistens on the back. Drawn as I always am to read them, I drive as close as I can to read the badly designed sticker with small type. I should have known to abort by that time.

"Save a horse; ride a cowboy!" it said, which I'm ashamed to say I almost thought of laughing at. My excuse is because I was expecting something serious. Riding beside the car to see what sort of person would have a sticker (I expected a young blond cowgirl) of that nature, I glance in. After staring a moment at the swinging red cowboy hat that hung from the rear-view mirror, I saw the woman. My car almost blew up right then, not even giving me time to drive screaming off the nearest cliff then explode in mid-air. Through the cloud of smoke I could make out an old shriveled shell of what was once a women; entire body seemed a giant lung cancer. Wearing way too much makeup, she looked to be the physical manifestation of Patti and/or Selma from the Simpsons, only 3 times as old. And 3 times as hairy...

Not that I have a problem with older people, but when they have stickers like that on their cars that force mental images upon me that'd have driven Dali insane, then I get pissy.

devolve | evolve