Mr. Telephone Man...There's Something Wrong With My Head

I happened to be reading some articles on the recent mindless acts in Atlanta, Ga. Strange shit happens all the time. You see it in every part of the nation. Some dumbass clearing out the gene pool with their tomfoolery (horrible word but I find myself strangely attracted to it).

It is an endless cycle. The "Jackasses" of the world prove themselves on national television every day. Children watch it in between their cartoons, Which I must add make no sense whatsoever, and seem to be destined to further debase the moral virtues we are no longer trying to instill in our youth.

Alcohol is probably the second best friend a man can have in his life (besides Rover) especially if he is following the American Dream of having 2.5 children, the big house, the white picket fence, yada, yada, yada… and a little (or big, I won't discriminate) girlfriend on the side. I hate to go back in time, but we all know how John Wayne Bobbitt lost his head. *Snip* The combination of debasing cartoons, alcohol and Bobbitism has brought us to a whole new level.

If you haven't heard about it, a guy drives drunk. His friend is hanging out the window when he gets up close and personal with the wire to a telephone pole while his friend drives up on the curb. You know who/what won this little confrontation. The guy drives home, leaving the friend in the truck and goes to sleep. His family now wants him out of jail so he can receive treatment. (I can think of some treatment he'd get if I was his family). It seems like the two families were really close so they don't want him in jail.

Just imagine driving down the road drunk. You look over at your friend in the passenger seat who has his head out the window like your best friends tend to do. He's so peaceful you drive on to the house and leave him passed out and go in and crash on the bed. You wake up with the cops pulling your hand off your dick and cuffing it behind you.

"Son, do you know why we're arresting you? Seems like you left something on the side of the road!"

"Officer, I swear the shit isn't mine!"

I've had problems finding my keys, finding my room, remembering the name of the chick laying next to me after a night of "tomfoolery," but never my friend's head.I guess there are several morals to the story. Either let your friend drive the car and lose your mind, go home with the ugly chick that was hitting on you earlier in the night or fuck it, keep your head inside the window.

Looks like I need another beer. Where the hell are my keys?