You can tell a lot about a person by the car they drive. For example most nice cars are driven by douchebags. Most SUVs with big wheels and shiny grillz are driven by G’s. Most minivans are driven by middleaged surbabanites who are so disappointed with their lives that they constantly contemplate pointing that sled at jersey barriers and turning themselves and their shitty children into (goodness gracious) great balls of fire. Cute little Pontiacs and Kias with stickers and dangling mirror ornaments are driven by daddy’s little sluts. And I drive a Fox wagon. Its brown and rusty, but it is unassuming and plain like I am. Its a Volkswagen in case you didn’t know and I take a not so quiet comfort in the fact that I drive a car made by someone who slaughtered countless people for no good reason, oh what a visionary he was! All this got me thinking of the fact that I hadn’t driven my beloved Fox for quite some time due to soaring gas prices and my ever shrinking wallet. So I decided to take a drive today, but was stopped in my tracks when I noticed that my car was covered in bird shit. From tip to tail it was doused in the stuff. So I offered a bum $5 to do it for me while I watched. It provided me with slight enjoyment. And afterward it still looked sorta sloppy but I gave the bum $3 anyway and made off with his towels and bucket so I could fix it myself at a later date. So today I took a drive through cow country, met two farmers selling watermelons by the side of route 81. They said their names were Zed and Ezekiel, and that the watermelons were sweeter than the morning sun and only a fifteen cents a piece, they assured me that I couldn’t get this much pleasure for fifteen cents anywhere, not even in those rat infested hotels in the damned city. So I bought fifty of those fruits, thinking they would make great christmas presents for whomever I would meet in the next 6 months… how long does a watermelon stay sweet for?