12% BEER
My shit got all fucked up.
  Ahhhhhh damn. Ahhhhh mother fucking damn.

Damn damn damn motherty fucking fuckity fuck damn ma.

I don't even know where you want me to start. I don't even know where you want me to end. I don't know where you want me to place the climax, how far you want me to get into character description, what sort of rolly poly puppy moral you may be expecting after you are done reading.

I cannot tell you any of that.

I can only tell you the sound that keeps echoing in the chambers of my alternator.


Horrible sound. Crunching, scraping, crumpling sound.

But that's only the first one. That's the one that turns my headlights on, it's the second sound that makes them get all high beamed and shit.


And I relive the entire thing again...the sound of brakes screeching, the sudden lunge foward, the second more forceful lunge forward again. I remember my headrests were coming off the track. The tape skipped and made "Tighten Up" sound like a dance remix version that would be loved in gay bars across the Bible Belt.

At that moment I blacked out. I popped out of gear and I guess my engine got switched off because when I cranked back on all I could hear was LadeeLeroy:

"Oh shit. Oh my God. My poor fucking car."

That's when I knew something was wrong. My girl wouldn't be freaking out all crazy calm like in the middle of I-35 South if something wasn't wrong.

"What? What is it? Ahhh damn... ahhhh motherfuckingshititttyitydamn. I can't feel my back bumper---- I- I- I can't feel my trunk latch.... ahhhh damn... what's wrong with me Leroy? What's wrong? What were those crazy ass sounds? Am I all right? Am I going to that sweet Assembly Line In The Sky? Where's my back left indicator? WHERE'S MY BACK LEFT INDICATOR?"

My girl tried to calm me down.

"Here's the deal Honda Civic DX Hot Rod. We... you... were in an accident."

I almost shat my brake fluid out I was so afraid of what she would say next.

"And... you've had some major damage to the back end."

It was silent. I felt passing cars stare at me and heard them whisper to one another "glad it wasn't me", "hope they got insurance", "that's why I'm built Ford tuff."

I quickly rolled my windows up so I could have my thoughts to myself.

"Am I going to be towed?"

Leroy looked at my dented body, my cracked brake lights, my shattered indicators, my bumper which was all askew and shit. I had flash backs to junkyards from my past and was afraid that I was about to be salvaged.

I would be alone. Rusting metal carcass being picked apart by needy mechanics. Soon I'd just be a shell. No one would visit me anymore. No more car washes. No more oil changes.No one would sing the praises of my fine Honda Civic DX self and shit.

"I don't want to be towed!!!," I yelled.

"And you won't be. We're going to drive you back to Austin and dammit, we're going to find you some new parts and we're going to straighten out your dents and you'll be looking all fly and shit in no time.," Leroy said to me, patting my dash in the way only she knows how.

"You just rest now. I need to go get some insurance information and talk to the police."

"Wait. Before you go, can I see what I look like?"

Leroy was stunned. An expression of 'fuck no' came across her face. But she and I go way back, she wouldn't deny her fine ride a request in a time of distress.

She pursed her sexy lips and handed me a mirror.

Slowly, I looked. First at my trunk.

"Ahh, damn."

Then my profile.

"Oh why? Why? I look like a pug."

I put the mirror down, I didn't want to see anymore.

"I- I- can't go on. You should just leave me here on the side of the road."

Leroy looked at me right in the speedometer and said, "You are so beautiful---- to me."

"Stop. Don't. I'm not. I'm hideous."

She didn't stop. "You are so beautiful--- to me. Can't you seeeeeeeeeeheheeeeeee? You're everything I ever wanted! You're everything I neeeeeeed. You are. So. Beautiful. Toooooo me."

She then lifted up the mirror to my brake light.

"See that, Honda? That's beauty."

Then she swung it to my left fender side.

"And that is beauty too."

Ahhhh damn. Ah damn you know.

I mean, she really meant that. She was going to be there by my driver's side. She would make sure that everything would be okay.

She still thought I was beautiful.

"I love you Leroy."

"I love you, too Honda Civic DX. You had me at 'Hello. Here's your new car.'"

The ride back home is still a blur as I was still in a state of shock. Later on my trunk lid got pried open and that hurt like a bitch, but I got some bungee cords to help out with the lack of latching ability I have at the moment. We're still waiting to hear back from the insurance company, but in the meantime me and Leroy have never been closer.

She cleaned out my interior the day after we got home. She polished my tires. She even put dryer sheets under the floor mats to make me smell mountain fresh.

But I still got a fucking long road to recovery and shit.

As long as I got Leroy, though, I know I'm gonna be okay.

Damn, I am the fucking luckiest unlucky car in the whole damn world.

Beep beep my peeps.
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Copyright 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004 L.Leroy