The car is up to a hundred and forty K's; this is getting serious. This is what they call Peak Experience, bitch. And I am pumped.
Before this I would spend most of my time watching TV. I’d listen to the heartfelt voice-over as a child rummages through waste, looking for apple cores or some shit, sifting though disease and death so he can eat that night; so he and his pot-bellied little sister can eat. These are the little black kids you see on TV in Zaire and India, where you could save them, for just thirty nine ninety five a month, just over a dollar a day, but you don't. It’s not even the price of a cup of coffee. But you don’t. I don’t. You don’t. I'm not preaching, I did't care then and I don't care now, I'm just saying. Either way.
I’d sit and listen as Travel World tells me how life just got better, "lower air fares every day", I'd think of that terrorist packing the soul of his shoe with high explosives. What a fucking retard.
And Microsoft tells me there's now something to be excited about. Bonus.
And Toyota explains happiness now comes with Free Air and MP3 player, and for just fourteen thousand dollars, factory standard.
This sin't my car, I stole it. My car got trashed a while back. This the same stretch of highway too, you know, where all this started.
This car has all that shit; air bags in the front and sides; MP3; power everything. I am pretty happy with this car.
It's got DVD too. I'm not watching. I used to watch a lot.
I could sit there and not think - that's right, not at all, for hour after endless hour, repeater.
Show after show until the movie at eight thirty. Then the late movie. Then the late, late movie. Then infomercials and the Christian Healing Network till dawn. Four hours of it. The people with hair so stiff with spray it doesn't move, selling me salvation for the lowest, one-time-only special offer of thirty nine ninety five per month. There’s a free booklet thrown in. Bonus.
Coke, they'd tell me I can get more out of life. I can enjoy, I can do anything. Enjoy. I can go jet skiing; I can play beach volley ball, but, I'd rather just watch it on wide screen, seriously.
My name is Clay, and some would say I'm kinda pathetic.
I want to die.
I am drunk behind the wheel of this car right now.
The name is Clay, and I am about to crash this fucking car.
Go to Part 2