Tom foolery, car poolery

Steve-o and I are doing a lot of car pooling these days - since we're both working fairly regular hours now. It's good. Saves on gas and pollution. Doing our part for Kyoto y’know. This morning’s drive was entirely typical.

"Nice weather eh? And it's gonna get even warmer tomorrow."

"All Novembers should be like this. I tell you, global warming can't get here soon enough."

"Damn straight. To hell with coastal encroachment. Who cares."

"Yeah. So what if Malta becomes the size of my thumbnail. They don't need the space. They're all Pygmies and Oompa Loompas down there."

"I know. It's true! They're all tiny down there. You should see when I go back home. They're all like - All hail King Steven! The one who grows tall!"

"They probably even thought Robin Williams was tall when he was down there."

"Yeah. Him and Shelley Duvall. They're like the national heroes of Malta."

"And they still have the Popeye village, eh?"

"Yeah but no one goes anymore - since they started charging admission. Is this guy gonna turn or what?"

"Oh, come on, dude. Turn the corner. Jesus. Life's passing us by, here."

"What the heck's wrong with this guy?"

"I don't know. I hate people who don't know how to drive. I'd like to round them all up and ram explosives up their nose and blow their heads off."

"Yeah. Or take away their license."

"Or that, yeah. Whatever's easier."

"Cars ought to come equipped with a poo-flinger for times like this."

"I never thought of that. Why don't you invent it then?"

"I will. For sure. I'll make millions."

"You'll need some kind of distribution channel for the ammunition."

"Yeah, I'll handle that too."

"And some kind of humidity control. Dry poo wouldn't fling well I don't think. It certainly wouldn't stick."

"I realize. I've got a sort of hyperbolic chamber in mind."

"Sounds cost-prohibitive."

"Well. That's just for the high-end models."

"The high-end poo-flingers."

"Yeah. The regular models will just have sprayers - intermittent - you know - like at the produce section of the grocery store."

"Maybe that's your distribution channel. Grocery stores. They've got the equipment already. They could display it between the celery and the parsnips."

"Yeah, maybe. Speaking of which - I wouldn't mind hitting a grocery store when we're in the States tomorrow."

"That's cool. Theirs a Taps Friendly Market near the Cove. We can hit it on the way home."

"Right on. They should have good meat prices there. Meat's cheap in the States. I want to get a turkey for Christmas or maybe a turducken."

"Turducken?"

"Yeah. They're good. "

"Well, Taps is the place to go. They have excellent turducken - with extra turds - and a free flinger."

"I hope I don't get O.J. Simpson's finger."

"Flinger, son. I said flinger. Not finger. Clean the wax out. That reminds me - I should get some Q-tips while we're out."

"We got tons of Q-tips, man."

"I know but I don't like to take chances. Q-tips are very precious to me."

"You shouldn't clean your ears more than once every two days."

"Why the hell not?"

"Not good for you."

"Oh. Yeah. Yeah, right. I think I read about that actually. In the Maltese Book of Wives Tales. It's right after the one that says eat your spinach and you'll grow up to be a movie star."

"You making fun of Popeye, man? That was an excellent movie."

"Yeah, whatever you say, Tattoo."


Okay. I’ll spare you the rest. Can’t remember much more anyway.

And to think I gave up Howard Stern in the mornings for being too immature. Oh well.