Date: Sat, 04 Sep 2004 19:37:32 -0600 From: Karla Schulz Subject: Carrots and Celery Snap Shots from the road series Part four Going out to Alex (the lucky bastard who is actually going to see Ben Folds in a couple months) and to Tom again, cause I like his cat, this is yet another thrilling addition of the SNAPSHOTS FROM THE ROAD SERIES!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUN! DUN! DAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! North? I see your name on maps. Very impressive. --- About six hours into the trip, we've exhausted most avenues of deep conversation and a large portion of the food is gone. Hence, my boredness. Which naturally leads to: "It'd be really funny if we died." "What? HOW? Our dying would be funny exactly HOW?" Kyle demands irritably. "Well, you know. Just as we're rushing off to reunite or whatever with Celery, finally confronting him... we die tragically in a car crash only hours away from him. It's ironic." "I'm pretty sure it's just unfortunate." He mutters. Oh Alanis... "I love irony." Choosing not to address his comment. He sighs and glances backwards at Jonas, who appears to be sleeping peacefully in the backseat. So no help there. "Enough to die for?" Is what he eventually comes up with. I shrug. "Quite possibly. It's a deep, abiding love." "Carrots..." "You probably wouldn't have to die, or Jonas." "How comforting." Dryly. "It's probably even more tragic with guilt ridden survivors, don't you think? I can die for the irony and then you and Jonas survive, but like, Jonas is in a coma or something... good for bedside speeches and declarations -- you could be gayer, you know. The manly guys doing manly things thing works for you and Jonas, but the people want to see some cheese you know?" "Carrots, this is your life you're talking about. OUR lives. You know, what's really happening? You're not the narrator for some angsty teen drama." Oh Kyle... How little you know. "It's a long drive Kyle. Someone has to keep us all entertained." "Please pick another method, I beg you. You're crap at writing the story of my life." Lap it up people. "We could play `Sexual Innuendo Ahoy!'" "What?" He sounds exasperated and very nearly at the end of his rope. "Sexual Innuendo Ahoy! it's where--" "Carrots -- whatever it is -- I'm fairly certain I don't want to play it with you." I sigh. "Fine, we'll just listen to sad bastard music and brood then." "Great." So let the Death Cab cds spin. --- NOTE: I stole the idea for Sexual Innuendo Ahoy and I'm not giving it back.