I’m on the freeway this morning on my way to work when I find myself behind one of those behemoth polished chrome tankers that you know deep down are carrying pure unadulterated poison. The shinier the chrome, the more deadly the cargo. I see one and I immediately think of Terminator 2. The driver is probably wearing hazmat approved overalls and neoprene underwear. He’s no doubt whistling through the cold sweats and wishing he could momentarily take his hands from the ten and two position to turn the radio on.
Anyway. So I’m behind one, and I find myself staring at the eerily clear reflection of my car in the shiny, shiny dome ass of this truck. Ooooh! Wow, it doesn’t
look like I’m going 135 miles an hour… hey, can I see myself waving? Maybe if I get closer…
I don’ t really think that trucks carrying literal
tons of explosive toxins should have interactive, hypnotic fucking
holograms on the back. Unless I have a liquid metal Terminator clinging to my hood, that’s just not going to be good for anybody.
And to Senator Shady in the spray painted Toyota? I’m not sure that just
writing some numbers and letters on a piece of paper with a magic marker and sticking it in the back window constitutes a license plate. I haven’t seen anything official, but I’m pretty sure it’s not cool. Whatever, though. Nice hat.
