Someday I hope to be cool enough to drive around in my beat-up pickup truck without a shirt on.
But why stop there? Maybe I should grow a mullet, attach some fancy truck accessories that cost more than the vehicle itself, and drag race little old ladies at stop lights (whether they know we’re racing or not). After I burn through the finish line, I’ll pull over and wait for the old lady to catch up. Then I’ll start taunting her with the few words in my vocabulary and crush my open beer can flat against my forehead. Of course, I didn’t empty it first, so this will cause a can of beer to go spewing all over my dashboard and my collarless, paperless, non-vaccinated, flea-ridden mutt will crawl over me with his tail a-waggin to lick up every last drop. After he’s cleaned my dash, console, and steering wheel he’ll start licking my face for good measure. I’ll stick out my lips and say “good boy…good boy…that’s a good boy. We whupped her fanny, didn’t we good boy?”
Then the police arrest me because some lame “upright citizen” saw my open beer container and called the cops.
Yeah…someday I hope to be cool…