I am a trucker and I live a useful life. I bring materialism to your community, from the tainted California vegetables you gleefully consume under pretenses of being “healthy” to the Chinese lead toy your child just licked into her bloodstream that will linger permanently like a stalker, waiting, watching, eventually causing mutated offspring with a third hand growing from her forehead. And this hand will give you, the grandparent, a ‘shocker‘.
My life’s work consists of driving and popping pills to keep driving. I have seven children and a wife at home, but my work is truly what is important to me, so I see the fam about three days a month. They annoy me to heck and back with their, “daddy, I love you so much, did you bring me any of that delish California spinach like you did last time?” and from my wife, “I’m so hot for you; I want you inside me now!” All so needy.
I think it’s destiny to meet you here at this sketchy bar on the far-side of the Sidewinder Motel. You sipping that PBR while I stare at your poignant tube-topped tits through the corner of my eye reminds me of the time I watched a cow drinking from the Yakima River. Moo moo, baby.
Let me tell you Sexy Lady, being a trucker means two things: I’m horny as hell and I have erectile dysfunction. But lest you think that I only like you for your 8 inch butt cleavage and your third trimester ‘lady lump’, I’ve got to tell you that you mean so much more.
You look like the kind of woman who’d buy me a drink after a long day’s drive. I drink Red Stripe and I drink it warm. Tell Mr. Barman to microwave my brew for two minutes, and better drop an olive in there or no tip.
Four hundred miles ago, I was passing through Topeka and my 18 wheeler hit an eldery man who was in the 9/11 Remembrance Parade. By the looks of the uniform that I later pulled out from my engine block he was a WWII veteran. May he rest in peace. Would you like to see his medal of honor? It is hanging you know where.
I can tell by the way that your water is breaking that you too remember 9/11. Yes, it is still upsetting. I remember where I was on 9/11. I was hopped up on meth and cranking out a 15,000 mile job hauling a trailer of Spam. Me and the loner hitchhiker that I later ended up disposing of in a ditch first heard the news on Fox Radio. We were so stunned, that we hardly noticed I had buried a switchblade in his eye.
So what would you and your newborn say to joining me on a trip to Anchorage? I’ve heard that the Northern Lights are beautiful up there.
