This week's highlight entry was from Jerry H. First, he had the catchiest title. And secondly, Jerry used fantastic detail. Specifically in regards to the eyes and make and model of the vehicle. Well, just read it, you'll see.
There's A Reason Studeabkers Are So Obosolete
By: Jerry H.
I can’t believe she didn’t open the clutch when she started the car. A 1955 atomic powered Studebaker XL47 isn’t like modern cars with voice activated engines and clean carbon monoxide power.
I told her, “Take the Ford”, but “No Daddy please the Stude is so cool. Coolness is a vital part of winning that scholarship to Harvard.” Well after battering her baby blues, a couple more oh daddies and pleases, I gave in. Then call came, midnight, Mill Valley Mall, car backfired, Daddy help. I don’t know who needs to have their butt kicked more, her or me.
By: Brad W.
"I can't believe she didn't think that was funny."
“Did she see you?”
“I don’t think so. I was driving pretty fast.”
“Could you see her face?”
“Yeah, bro. I watched her in the rear view. She was FREA...KING... OUT.”
“Oh, I know. She called me bawling.”
“What’d she say?”
“I could hardly understand her. It was nuts, man. She was…”
“Acting like she saw a ghost? Ha hahahahaha.”
“She peed herself.”
“I don’t know, man. Peed-pants seems a little….”
“I don’t think so. I’m feeling a little guilty.”
“I’m kinda hungry.”
“Waffle House open?”
By: Joe B.
“I can’t believe she didn’t call first.”
Tommy mumbled, staring down at his own vomit.
And all over his leather Bostonians, too.
He planned on wearing sneakers, but forgot to pack them in the duffle bag.
The duffle bag. Crap. He left it back where she had energized.
“She shoulda called first,” he said aloud. He was sure he was done vomiting now. He wiped his mouth and inspected the splatter on his shoes.
He couldn’t look up. Not yet. He thought if he didn’t look at it, it would just go back to normal.
He hated her. This is what she does to him. And now she’s back.
Un-Happy Birthday To Me
By: Christopher D.
I can't believe she didn't get the red one. For months, maybe even years we have talked about this. We've looked at catalogs. We've visited every Light Up Car Show for hundreds of miles. Each and every time she asked, I told her I wanted one. Not only did I want one. I wanted a red one. Now here I am, on my birthday, in front of my friends and family, and I have to try and be excited about receiving the wrong lit car. I mean, the interior looks nice. It doesn't have many miles. But darn it, it's just not the red one!
The Bi-Monthly Pizza Party
By: Hannah K
I can’t believe she didn’t stay for this. I told her it was worth skipping her aunt’s party to see and it only happens every eight weeks. “Jimmy,” Augusta said. “No cars, not even cars that ‘glow in the dark’ are worth skipping Astella’s bi-monthly pizza party.”
That’s the third one this evening, driving out from behind the carwash as if they were born there.
“Excuse me sir!” the driver said.
“Could you direct me to the, um, ‘highway’?” I ambled over, “Where you headed, mister?”
“A coronation… I mean pizza party.”
“Pull out, turn left, and follow the signs.” I wish Augusta were here to see this.
By: Tres K
I can’t believe she didn’t calibrate the stopping watch. She didn’t even check the time range. Now I’ve got some clean-shaven yokel starring in the side window. And she’s the one calling me careless? Untamed, maybe even undomesticated, but not careless. Drunk on my own cajones, she said. Right about that, I guess, but she’s never Zapped, never felt the tingle of a new When or the adrenaline high of the unknown. Shit… only 00:00:29 more till the skin cools. Then I’ll have to open that door and start dancing, start figuring out when I am. If I ever get back, I swear I’ll Zap that broad to 3018.
Ethel the Nutcase
By John A.
I can't believe she didn't know that filling the carburetor full of plutonium would have this effect. True that Ethel has a fixation on Back to the Future and its sequels, but did she really think she could time travel in our car ? That goofy wife of mine. Just how am I going to explain this to the police ? And where is Ethel right now ? Sleeping. And hoping that when her alarm clock rings, the time machine on the nonexistent flux capacitor will be ready to transport her to God knows where. Or when. I knew that sleeping on large curlers would someday cause her to go off the deep end.
By: Mary F.
I can’t believe she lost the glowing pink Cadillac.
“For your 30th birthday,” I said. “I’ll give you a 1955 pink Cadillac and have it converted into a glower”.
She is a living breathing Elvis fan who dreamed of owning a 1955 pink Cadillac. Her apartment is covered with Elvis memorabilia: pink Cadillac cookie jar, Elvis pink Cadillac montage, Elvis pink Cadillac key chain and every Elvis pink Cadillac item that she can scrounge up on e-bay. But she let the salesman buy her a few drinks, talk her out of the Cadillac, and then charge her to juice up her Grandpa’s old car.
She traded away her dream.
By Mark H.
I can’t believe she didn’t put the car in park… but really I can. She’s my achingly beautiful, Einstein smart and often laughingly absentminded wife. She “parked” the car at Lake Luminescence near our home in northern Minnesota to go jogging on the trail around the lake, aptly named for the unique light-emitting algae that coat it during the summer. Unfortunately, the car slipped gurgling into the lake before she was even around the first bend. By the time I arrived, it had been towed out, glowing like a casualty of Three Mile Island , as the luminous microscopic organisms transformed our ride into a shimmering, lime-green spectacle of light.
By Linda Gail A.
I can’t believe she didn’t join me for a night to remember. I don’t know what it was that turned her off. I have the absolute coolest tricked out car. I replaced the boring metal with a clear plastic and filled it with the same fluid that’s inside a glowing lava lamp. I mean, come on, what other guy has that? So clearly, it’s not my car. But that only leaves me. Yet that doesn’t compute either. I hold seven degrees from top online universities, and I have a pet llama. I am so totally a babe magnet. It’s clearly an issue with her.
Shot Thru the Heart and You're to Blame
By: Jenny S.
“I can’t believe she didn’t leave the keys!”
Carl stooped over to get a better look inside. Geraldo just sat in the drivers sear, numb.
Carl had a thing for shady women and pyramid schemes. This was an issue that had plagued him most of his adult life. And as embarrassing as it was, he always signed on for another product.
This time was no different. Carl of course, had already paid his fee to join upfront and had brought Geraldo as part of the recruiting process. But with no keys, getting his friend to buy into The Mean, Green, Radio-Active Machine would prove to be a bit more difficult.