Before we get started on this blog, I would like to publicly (kind of) wish Lady Caggiano to get well soon. She recently got into a serious car accident and had to be taken to the hospital. She is relatively OK; she broke her vagina-bones, but she seems pretty upbeat about not being dead, and she apparently enjoys peeing in a cup. To make her feel better, and to explain to all of you readers out there in internetland how she got into an accident, I decided to write a story around her harrowing tale:
The night was cold, wet. It was like that dead hooker that you had to bury in the rain on one autumn day. That is, it smelled kind of funky and it was still struggling a little. Damn corpses. Anyway, I got into my car, listened to the gentle growl emanate from under the hood as I turned the ignition. I didn’t want to head to Pataskala; I didn’t want to even leave my house, but damnit, Minigan guilt tripped me into leaving. “I really want to work on the TV show” he said. “I developed the characters a little more,” he said. What a cunt-stain. And I never use the word “cunt.” Not unless I am talking about him. I don’t even know why I haven’t stolen this TV show idea and put it together on my own. I guess I like the fact that he immediately includes me on his projects. It makes me feel wanted.
Anyway, my car awoke from its slumber, and The Killers began to blast through the speaker. I smiled. At least the trip over would be a good one. And I could probably just tune Minigan out the entire time. He’ll won’t notice; all he does is rant anyway. God, do I hate him. Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if I never met him. I am pretty sure everything would be nothing but double rainbows and sex without judgment.
Despite the good feelings The Killers put me in, I still looked back at my apartment building with longing. I normally had this feeling that something terrible was going to happen when I go meet Minigan, but this was different: I felt that my life was more at stake this time. Shaking off those feelings of foreboding, I began my trek to P-town.
My instincts were correct. Unknown to me, Pataskala actually contains the gates to Hell. Which, in hindsight makes perfect sense, seeing as though Minigan lives there. Well, as I was driving towards that town, I saw this red glowing light. It was pulsating, and as I giggled at how funny the word “pulsating” is, some winged, naked, bald man landed on my windshield. Figuring I just hit another gay stereotype who came prancing out of one of the many gay bars that litter The Short North, i was tempted to just continue driving. Grumbling (my conscience got the best of me), I climbed out of the comfort of my car into the cold, dead hooker of a night to examine the damage done.
The man was as muscular as a gay (or as Minigan, the meatheaded douchebag) but he was incredibly ugly. There is no way a gay man is that ugly. I took a second look, hoping that it was Doug that I hit, but sadly, no. The winged man was ugly, but not Minigan ugly, or what I like to call “Dougly” on account of Minigan’s middle name being Doug. Also, although the man and Minigan both smell like pure evil, this man smelled like putrid flesh as well, whereas Minigan also reeks of Axe body spray. This dude lying in front of my car had a pig snout and a mouth full of brownish yellow fangs that pointed in different directions. The man’s skin tone was a sickly grey, and his bald, lumpy, and misshapen head sat on top of a long and oddly veiny neck . His leathery and taloned wings were bent awkwardly on the wet pavement. I began to wonder what man would wear leathery wings, and came to the conclusion that this guy had to be gay, but one of those rare fugly gay guys that show up every once and a while.
I leaned over the assumed dead, assumed gay man’s body, wondering whether I should call the cops or roll him into the gutter like the rest of the hit pedestrians, when the man opened his black eyes. I do not mean that they were bruised, or that that his pupils were dilated, but that even the whites of his eyes were black. Sensing that I was looking at some really fucked up shit, I proceeded to get back into my car. I threw the man my insurance card at the man and apologized as I closed the door, but fugly dude let out an ear piercing screech- something that would have annoyed the shit out of a nazgul. The thing jumped onto the hood of my car, crumbling the metal like it was paper. He then punched through my windshield, but got his massive talon stuck in the tempered glass. I looked around in a panic, but the only thing at my disposal was a copy of “Twilight: Breaking Dawn” that Minigan gave me for my Birthday (which I threw into my car, never to think about again). The Stupid asshole; he knew that I hated Twilight. That’s when I remembered- that dumbass didn’t give me the book, “Twilight,” he gave me a hollowed out copy of “Twilight” with a vampire slaying kit inside. I lunged past the writhing demon hand and reached for the book. As my fingers clasped around the book, the monster’s fingers grabbed a fistful of my hair. My scalp burned as he thrashed me around the front of my car. Somehow, I was able to open the book and grab the Celtic (for some strange reason, vampires are from Eastern Europe after all) Crucifix. As best as I could, I beat the monster’s wrist with it. Hey- Don’t judge me, I was panicking. What would you have done? The stake Minigan made for me was as dull as one of his lame jokes. Anyway, to my surprise, the creature let out a angry cry, and let go of my hair. It’s long, grey, and taloned hand pulled out of my windshield.
At that moment, my foot instinctively pressed down on the accelerator, and my car lurched forward, throwing the winged man over the hood and back onto the pavement. I sped through town, dodging pedestians and other cars like a crazy person, all in an effort to get away from the thing that attacked me. I wasn’t even sure if I was going in the right direction (not that I really cared), I just wanted to get as far away from that monster as possible.
My mind slowly calmed and I found it drifting from the horrors of one monster to another: Minigan. I just knew that he would be sitting at the smoothie place, on his golden “Emperor of Awesome” throne he built for himself, shirtless and oiling up his abs, just waiting for me to show up so that he could put on his pathetic show of impotent masculinity. Part of me always hopes that he ignites the oil on his body during his traditional fire dance to the Thunder God. And, sadly, everytime he completes the ceremony unscathed, I die a little bit more inside.
My mind grew tired of the image of Minigan aflame, so I began to take notice of where I was heading. I was on the freeway, headed East. Fuck. I was still headed towards Pataskala. And not only that, the throbbing glow (I giggled again) was now an even deeper shade of red and took up more of the sky. Something told me that I was going to have to deal with a lot of shit tonight.
The next few minutes were relatively uneventful, the occasional zombie hoard pulling their victim out of a car, shadow creatures crumbling buildings like they were made of cards, sink holes forming in the middle of the road and spewing out thousands of little devil cherubs. You know, the things you normally see in Columbus Ohio. ( I am not even joking, these are all regular occurences here. If you are reading this and do not live in Ohio, keep it that way. Don’t even drive through Ohio. You will be putting yourself and your loved ones at risk.The fact that Minigan also lives within the Ohio borders is only a stronger argument of why you should never come here.) I approached my exit and sighed, knowing what horrors awaited me in the Over Latte Café. Unluckily for the world, but luckily for me, a two story tall shit monster formed at the exit. It wasn’t a solid shit either, it was closer to a thick diarehea shit. It moved around like it was the lava inside of the lamp. It didn’t have eyes so much as sunken pits where eyes supposed to go, but it did have teeth- giant fangs that looked eerily like corn. In fact, to me, it kind of looked like Minigan, probably because they are both huge pieces of shit. Anyway, I was kind of estatic at this new development. I cannot honestly say that it was the happiest I had ever been, since there was a giant shit monster lumbering towards me, but at least it wasn’t Minigan. Also, I remembered the comment I made about 300 words ago, and I let a short “ha” escape my lips.
But due to this laugh, but mostly due to the giant shit monster stealing my attention, I was not paying full attention to the road or the car in front of me slamming on their breaks. Once I noticed that the car in front of me was getting larger at an alarming rate, I in turn slammed on mine, not noticing the slick patch of road that I was careening towards. I hit said patch of slick road, my wheels locked up, and I found my self spinning at an orgasmically terrifying rate. The world outside my car was a blur of reds, blacks, and greys as the world inside my car was filled with my terrified screams. As I was spinning, all I could think about was how I was going to die here on the highway, and it was going to be all Minigan’s fault. That son of a bitch, I thought, I’m gonna haunt the shit out of him. I skidded to a halt with the passenger side of my car only inches away from the person in front of me. I was about to take a sigh of relief when I looked out the driver’s side window and saw another car barreling towards me. I was paralized with fear, when I realized that it was going to hit me, and all that I was able to do was yell, “FUCK YOU MINIGAN!!!” The car hit my door. Metal crunched. Glass shattered. Bones broke. Horns blared. Metallica started playing on the radio. I was in Hell. My nether-regions were in intense pain. I just knew I broke my lady bits. I ended up having to be taken to the hospital because my pelvic bone was broken in 2 places, and that is why I did not come to our meeting on Friday, Minigan.
Minigan- Seriously, that is your excuse?
Ashley- What, you don’t believe me?
Minigan- Of course I don’t. You had demons and shit monsters in it. How could you expect me to believe something like that? But I’m not angry about that. What I want to know is if you realized that you were talking shit on me in your inner-monologues when you told this story to me?
Ashley- What do you mean?
Minigan- I mean that you called my a cunt-stain, and said that you regularly hope I set myself on fire.
Ashley- Well then, I guess you won’t want these cookies I made you.
Minigan- Cookies!?!? FUCK YES I DO!!!
Ashely- [to herself] Ha, ha, men are so easy to trick.
Ok, now that I am done sucking Ashley’s metaphorical dick, Let’s get onto this week’s blog!
Just kidding- I’m done. Peace everybody, and Ashley, FEEL BETTER!!!!