Good, ‘cause I was going crazy. You know how I get when I can’t bitch about something with you. Makes me all angsty. Ew, gross, what the fuck. How fast was the car going? ‘Cause a few scrapes and bruises might have been a good trade-off.
God, do I. Sometimes I’m surprised all that pent of bitching doesn’t burst like an over filled dam while I’m away. Right? Like, out of nowhere. All of a sudden I’m a blip on their map, like please. We were on a parkway, so a good 55 - 65 MPH. That probably would have been hella badass, a great story to tell, and pissed the parents off. Too bad I didn’t take the opportunity.














