'##::::'##:::'#####:::'########: VIVA LA REVOLUCION! CERDO DEL CAPITALISTA!! ##:::: ##::'##.. ##:: ##.....:: =========================================== ##:::: ##:'##:::: ##: ##::::::: THE HELOTS OF ECSTASY PRESS RELEASE #432 !! #########: ##:::: ##: ######::: ZIEGO VUANTAR SHALL BE MUCH VICTORIOUS! !! ##.... ##: ##:::: ##: ##...:::: =========================================== ##:::: ##:. ##:: ##:: ##::::::: "Run From My Car" !! ##:::: ##::. #####::: ########: by -> Paganini !! ..:::::..::::.....::::........:: 1/15/99 !! !!========================================================================!! I have a problem. I hit things with my car. This, of course, is usually not on purpose, but lately I have begun to wonder. It started out small, with a squirrel and then a racoon-type creature, and then slowly I graduated into cats and, God forgive me, dogs. Now, after hitting an actual person, I have decided that maybe it is time I work on this issue. Maybe it is time I sought some sort of help or twelve step program. When I first got my license I went for a drive with my grandmother. It was a nice drive, with my nice grandmother, down a nice country road, when all of a sudden this squirrel comes flying down from this tree. He had this determined, evil look in his eye, and for one second he glared at me, and I froze up. I couldn't stop. My foot was on the gas pedal and I was going. I hit the little bastard and my grandmother has yet to forget about it. Every holiday, every time we see her, she look at me, and with angst all over her face (ha! Grandma you got angst on your face again...) She looks at me and says "what are you gonna hit me too?" She's one of those "Don't Hit The Animals With Your Car" people. It began there and then it just moved up. I went fishing and on my way home this little racoon scurried directly into the path of my car, knowing that I would not be able to swerve in time, thus hitting him. Months later I hit a cat on my way to school. I barely count this one though, because it seemed to be limping before I hit it. Thus I was not the initial hit. All of these are disturbing, yes, but not as disturbing as the time I hit that dog. Yes, I would say the dog was the hit that affected me the most. This was awful. I had just gotten done running at the local bike path (too many geese there- very scary), when I got into my car to leave. Everything was fine. I was doing the speed limit and I was almost home, when, out of nowhere, this dog comes running across the street, and I crash into him. It wasn't as awful as it sounds. It was one of those small, yippy dogs, but I still felt bad. I got out of my car and looked at the dog. I couldn't figure out what to do with it. I wondered if there were laws concerning this sort of thing. I wondered if I should just drag it around to some place else, or if I should actually get into my car and drive over the damn thing. To make matters completely worse, I noticed that the dog was still alive. Now, I have to say that I was kind of unmoved initially, but when the dying dog looked up at me, with those golden eyes of blue... tears came to my eyes. This is where the situation took a turn. I heard a door slam, and a man came out of the house across the street and looked at me and said "What the hell?!?" He was a scary man. He was wearing a once-white but now grey t-shirt with the word "SHIT" written on it. I don't remember what his pants looked like, but I do recall him wearing them. A cigarette was tucked behind his ear, and another dangled from his mouth. He looked pissed. He came over to me, my car, and the dead dog, and said "What the fuck did you do to my dog." Now, this was not the time for smart-ass remarks. I see that now, but at the time I must not have been thinking. I looked at the dog and pointed to my car and said "I hit it." This is where the situation got weird. There were more door slams, and more scary people. Children began spealing from this house in mass numbers. Children were running towards me, and running to the dog. There were 3, 25, 80 children all surrounding me and the car, and they started to cry. So here I am, five blocks from my house, standing on an uncomfortably barren street, surrounded by 115 children and their supposed father. Perhaps the weirdest aspect of this whole ordeal, was that all the children were calling the dog different names. One called it Sam, and another called it Crunchy. To make matters interesting, I had to go to the bathroom. One would think that I learned my lesson from all this, but no, I don't learn. I never learn. Ten months ago I hit a guy in the parking lot of a (dare I say it) mall. He to was swearing at me, but later we got to know each other, and we dated for nine months, until he got another girl pregnant. Now, I just stalk him, but that's off the subject. My point here is that things are always running in front of my car and I am starting to wonder if there is a reason for all this. Perhaps this is fate. Perhaps I was meant to hit these creatures. Maybe they all had rabies, including the ex. Maybe they were all very old and cancerous, excluding the ex. Well, ten months have gone by, and I have not consciously hit anything, except another persons car, which I don't really count. I am looking forward to driving. I have never gotten a ticket and I have never kept firearms in my car. However, would like to offer a few words of advice. Stay away from my car. You should just stay away from my car. You see, it is not my fault if I hit you. If my car is moving, and you happen to swing down from some vine, directly in front of the dented hood of my Honda Civic, I will hit you. Of course, you and I both know that I don't want to hit you, but if I hit you, I might end up dating you, or dragging you off the road and hiding you somewhere. We don't want that. So, people, my name is Sara, and I am a bad driver, so stay away from my car. Thank you and God bless America. !!========================================================================!! !! (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #432, WRITTEN BY: PAGANINI - 1/15/99 !!