DeadHorse Lane.

There I was driving the new car on a dusty old piece of shit road called "Deadhorse Lane." The name seemed to fit the old girl but I guess you had to be there to fully comprehend the dead horse element. My old man was riding shotgun and I was on one of my first ever drives. I tried to blame the pathetic attempt at handling on the quality of the road but we both knew I was just making excuses.

 

I was on the road for less than 10 seconds before a small goanna like lizard darted out in front of the car which, because of my sympathetic mood, caused me to swerve in a not so delicate manner. Suddenly my inner Amy Winehouse oozed forth and I was swerving all over the road. "What the fuck?" I thought. "Was my career as an insane race car driver going to be plagued by suicidal wildlife that thought my oncoming car was an indication to suddenly cross the road?" But it’s just like me to exaggerate.  A situation that lasted mere seconds suddenly balloons into a well thought out graphic novel, or a feature film starring Orlando Bloom in the me role. Sure he’s not as good looking as me, but I feel he has that sort of rugged charm that always rakes in millions at the box office and fills my pockets with something other than used tissues and scraps of fliers that I’m always too polite to say no to.

Anyway, it all seemed uphill from here. After I regained control of the beast within my hands (no pun intended), I was off to a flyer. For the first time in my life I felt a strange manly sensation because I was in control of what essentially was a giant metal air conditioned room on wheels and if I wanted to, I could kill myself and my human cargo at any moment.

The day was further enhanced by me witnessing something very special. A tumbleweed. That’s right; I David James Warneke witnessed a real life, fully grown tumbleweed rolling across the road in front of me powered by none other than the wind. How fitting it was to be driving so fast that a tumbleweed has time to cross the road in front of me. The little fucker was trying to mock me so naturally I put my foot on the accelerator and crushed that little bastard with the front left tyre, which as we all know ( well hopefully ) is followed by the rear left tyre. So after witnessing and crushing an idol of mine that I truly thought was fictional outside of Classic Western films I was quite happy.

 

It was a good day I must admit.

 

Driving: Check.

 

Wildlife: Check

 

Tumbleweed citing: Check.

 

Justice: Check.