license to ill

somebody call the short bus.
i need a ride.

now, this is not because i am that girl in the white jeep who plucks her eyebrows while travelling down the interstate in morning rush hour. nor, does it have anything to do with the fact that i have been known to drive my stick-shift SUV while drinking a yazoo pale ale, talking on my cell phone, and smoking a cigarette.

what is does relate to is the fact that i could not find my way out of a new year's eve vodka bottle if i pooped on myself in it. don't ask.

it took me 30 minutes this morning to get from my house in east nash to my cleaners on belmont boulevard. it should have taken 10. this had nothing to do with traffic and everything to do with the fact that i am retarded.

please call riverdale elementary and chastise them relentlessly them for putting me in the gifted program. they gave me the impression that i am smart. i have spent subsequent years proving them wrong.

this morning, in my continuing effort of proof, i did, however, get an education. i learned that you can go back and forth under the interstate 3 times on your way from 5 points to belmont boulevard. as well, the homeless man at 4th and douglas is definitely related to the one at harding place and franklin road. and who knew nashville had a motor speedyway?

a freaking race track in the middle of town.

after passing the speedway, i lost all will to navigate and pluck my eyebrows. instead, i got my mascara out, continued my mating dance with blindness, and realized my dry cleaners was on 12th avenue and not belmont.

does the short bus have a drink holder?