My Train Of Thought On A Long Car Trip

All right, just me and the open road. Big old open road. Road road road. That’s a weird word. Road road road road road. Towed on the road. Toad road. I’m in toad road mode.

I’m really glad fish don’t live on land, because they’d get in the way. Probably couldn’t even drive… too many fish.

Man, I could go for a Filet-O-Fish. No… a Fishamajig. “Friendly’s: 10 miles.” Boom. You’re mine, Fishamajig. Fishamajiggawhat? In my stomach is what.

“Friendly’s: 8 miles.” I wonder who makes signs. How do you become a sign-maker?

I saw the sign
It opened up my eyes I saw the sign
No one gonna bag it up
Toboggan the light, where you’d be wrong

I should be a singer. Who’s that black guy that makes up songs on “Whose Line Is It Anyway?” Anybody can do that. I’ll do that right now.

The man next door with the big old hatchet
Went outside and dug a hole in the platchet f*ck this.

Hello, Mister Man in the Pickup Truck. Mister Beard Man, Mister Oh No My Beard Is Eating My Face Man, Mister Beard Monster Man. Too bad about the beard monster, Mister Man. Shouldn’t have worn your beard so tight.

Man, I’m horny. Why do I always get horny when I’m bored? Maybe I should try jerking off at 70 miles per hour. God, that would be tough. I would be a true champion. No. Because what if a bad song comes on the radio? I couldn’t change it, and then I’d be stuck rubbing one out to Josh Groban. I wouldn’t even finish by the time I stop at Friendly’s. And then I’d have blue balls all through my Fishamajig.

Road road road road road. Toad road mode. Maybe I’ll call my mom.