11 hours
That was the time I was trapped in an van with a fellow coworker. My day started at 6am so we could leave and be in Norristown by 8. That was followed but Willow Grove and then a long boring return trip to Harrisburg on the turnpike-a-whirl, finally arriving back at Tyco at 5pm.
The van's radio is broken so the guy I went with brought music to listen to. I was not sure what kind of music he listened to but I figured I could stand it as long as it was not country. Oh how wrong I was. His MP3 CD had about 120 songs on it so it lasted forever. It has such bands as: Goo Goo Dolls, Third Eye Blind, matchboxtwenty, Creed, Green Day, and many others in the same vain as those. This was some form of torture I know it. I held out for the longest time, up until the last 20 miles of the TP on the return trip. Then I started to succumb to sleepiness. It reminded me of the lovely narcolepsy inducing CD known as the Braveheart Soundtrack.
He also thought it was funny to fart on my door panel while we were programming radios. I mean right into that door pocket so it could seep out for the rest of the ride home. Oh oh but I got him back. You see as he was mumbling about how his emination smelled like fried chicken I released a silent assassin. It crept up on him and beat him over the head with stench. He never saw it coming and he was so appalled that he asked me what crawled up my ass and died. There were not more farts released back into the wild after that. I put him in his place.
That was a good story. I like stories.
The van's radio is broken so the guy I went with brought music to listen to. I was not sure what kind of music he listened to but I figured I could stand it as long as it was not country. Oh how wrong I was. His MP3 CD had about 120 songs on it so it lasted forever. It has such bands as: Goo Goo Dolls, Third Eye Blind, matchboxtwenty, Creed, Green Day, and many others in the same vain as those. This was some form of torture I know it. I held out for the longest time, up until the last 20 miles of the TP on the return trip. Then I started to succumb to sleepiness. It reminded me of the lovely narcolepsy inducing CD known as the Braveheart Soundtrack.
He also thought it was funny to fart on my door panel while we were programming radios. I mean right into that door pocket so it could seep out for the rest of the ride home. Oh oh but I got him back. You see as he was mumbling about how his emination smelled like fried chicken I released a silent assassin. It crept up on him and beat him over the head with stench. He never saw it coming and he was so appalled that he asked me what crawled up my ass and died. There were not more farts released back into the wild after that. I put him in his place.
That was a good story. I like stories.
1 Comments:
ah, male bonding.
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