Sunday, May 15, 2005
My Aching, Well-Oiled Muscles
I must've put on at least ten pounds of muscle today. For today was moving day. My new apartment is on the second floor of a Melrose Place-style complex, but sans pool or sexy insane neighbors. It's also sans any elevator or dumbwaiter or any means other than stairs of getting heavy couches, refrigerators or bookshelves from the ground floor to the 2nd floor. I'm just lucky to be such a hulking physical specimen, a la Kevin Federline, that I could carry everything up on my chiseled back without breaking a sweat. Federline, yo.
But I did have lots of help from U-Haul, which made me realize that only certain gas stations pump diesel gasoline. Who knew? Truckers, you say? Touche. But let me ask you this -- have you ever encountered a trucker after they've driven 18 straight hours? They look at you with a grizzled thousand-mile stare and try to convince you that Jesus was an alien brought to Earth by a UFO. That's been my experience anyway. My trucker friend even gave me some literature on the subject, which I still have. Perhaps I'll post sections of his manifesto at a later date, once I unpack everything and find it. Or perhaps I shouldn't. He seems like the kind of guy who constantly Googles his own manifesto. He also seems like the kind of guy who would hunt me down and discipline me with his collection of glow-in-the-dark dildos.
I shouldn't generalize about truckers though. Most of them are cool. It takes lot of skill to maneuver a big-rig through rush-hour traffic. A lot them make great money too, whether it's through sweet government contracts, double-time night runs for FedEx, or winning overly dramatic arm-wrestling tournaments.
But I did have lots of help from U-Haul, which made me realize that only certain gas stations pump diesel gasoline. Who knew? Truckers, you say? Touche. But let me ask you this -- have you ever encountered a trucker after they've driven 18 straight hours? They look at you with a grizzled thousand-mile stare and try to convince you that Jesus was an alien brought to Earth by a UFO. That's been my experience anyway. My trucker friend even gave me some literature on the subject, which I still have. Perhaps I'll post sections of his manifesto at a later date, once I unpack everything and find it. Or perhaps I shouldn't. He seems like the kind of guy who constantly Googles his own manifesto. He also seems like the kind of guy who would hunt me down and discipline me with his collection of glow-in-the-dark dildos.
I shouldn't generalize about truckers though. Most of them are cool. It takes lot of skill to maneuver a big-rig through rush-hour traffic. A lot them make great money too, whether it's through sweet government contracts, double-time night runs for FedEx, or winning overly dramatic arm-wrestling tournaments.
