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Part Two: I'm STILL on a TRUCK! 09-04-10 09:28 EDT   Ryan's been whining for a web page to read so I'd better get this done...   Topic du jour...   I Hate Truck Stops   When I was driving about ten years ago or so, I developed a serious distaste for truck stops. I hate truck stops because I because I hate "truckers." I put the word in quotes because the generalization really isn't fair. The truth is that most, and by "most" I mean probably 99.62% of truckers, are all right people. The remaining 0.48% of truckers are the type of people that make me want to run off and have special treatments done so that I can become an amoeba or something just so that I can say that I don't belong to the same species as this miniscule number of disgusting wastes of oxygen.   I'm not sure where to even start with this...   OK, here we go.   Did you ever meet a person that wallows in his or her own fecal matter and urine for weeks at a time because he or she was just too fucking lazy to get their lazy, naked ass off of the shit-brown vinyl couch to actually make it to the bathroom (the bathroom that is only one-and-a-half-feet away from the couch) to eliminate their personal waste? (I believe that I may have created the world's first run-on question here...)   If you have met a person like this, then: 1. You really need to find some other people to be around... And... 2. You have an extremely, and I mean EXTREMELY, vague idea of how much I hate these shit-bagging, pieces of no-good fucking goddam fucking asshole worthless goddam fucking sonofabitching jesus-christ-get-me-a-fucking-gun pieces of fucking goddam shit.   Shit bagging... That's pretty funny.   Sorry, I'm OK now...   Shitbag Story #1   I saw a driver in a truck stop store. This driver weighed about 300 pounds, he wore a faded, torn up T-shirt bearing the logo of some loser-assed 80s metal band. The shirt was covered with food and God knows what else. He hadn't shaved in forever and stunk like, fuck, I don't even know how describe the smell... His belly stuck out from the bottom of his shirt, his shoes were untied, and his pants hung halfway down his bloated ass, and his hair was a stringy mess.   No, in spite of what you may be thinking, that's really not the disgusting part, just hang on a second...   He was standing in the medical isle of the store and I figured out that he was looking at... Please, God, kill me... CONDOMS!!!   Wait, wait, just wait... That's still not the disgusting part, really, just wait a second, OK?   I was watching this when I realized that this 40-something shitbag could not possibly have been interested in buying condoms for the FIRST TIME. No, and here where the really gross part comes up. You may want to skip the next few statements if you'd like to avoid a condom story induced brain hemorrhage...   The fantastic, vomit-inducing realization for me was when I figured out that this guy was buying condoms because... Dear, God, I don't know if I can even type this next sentence with hurling five years worth of food all over my computer... OK, deep breaths... Here we go...   He was buying condoms because he, because, uh, well, because... He... Because he fucking RAN OUT OF CONDOMS!!!   Once I realized the reality of the situation, I ran screaming from the store begging God to just strike me dead right there but God, being the ever funny sonofabitch that he is, let me live long enough to ponder the unreality of it all and to relay this horrifying story to you...   I remember fighting back the urge to confront this dumb-fuck and have a nice little one sided converstion with him about the mistake he was about to make....I wanted to go up to the guy and say...   "What, you're buying CONDOMS??!?!! Jesus living shit for Christ, Man! With the way you look you'd need a helluva lot more than just a thin layer of latex to protect you from anyone scuzzy enough to fuck YOU! Ever see the ALIEN??? Huh???? Remember that part where the guy cuts the leg on the little alien thingie and the stuff squirted out of the alien and the stuff BURNED A HOLE THROUGH SEVEN DECKS OF THE FUCKING SHIP?!?!? DUDE!!! YOU'LL BE LUCKY TO GET OFF THAT EASY!!! JESUS CHRIST, GUY, YOU SHOULD BE LOOKING AT LEAD-LINED, FIREPROOF SPACESUITS COVERED WITH ARMOR PLATING BEFORE YOU GO OUT AND GET ANY OF THAT HOT, LOT-LIZARD ACTION!!! DO YOU HEAR ME?!?! JESUS GODDAM SHIT FOR FUCKING CHRIST!!!"   The reason that I didn't talk to him is because the next logical step would have been to find the largest blunt object and beat him until there was nothing left but a giant fucking stain on the floor. Yeah, right, like I actually have the nerve for such action. I'm so full of shit.   Anyway...   I'm better now.   Sort of...   Shitbag Story #2   I wish I was making this second story up, but I'm not. I saw this on the ground not one-hundred feet from a dumpster, ha ha, a dumpster, I kill me... This is real, I found it and took a picture of it for the record.   Here we go, look at this picture...     Yes, yes it is...   Really.   I'm not kidding.   It's a fucking BAG OF SHIT!   Some, uh, asshole tossed out of his truck and then some other driver ran over it with his truck leaving shitty treadmarks on the lot right here in Indianapolis.   Ha, ha, I said dumpster...   Just fuck me.   Goddamit.   I'd write morre but I can barely type for laughing so fucking hard...   I hope you're happy Ryan...   I'll write more later...   Copyright 2010 by Frank Emsley

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