As you can probably guess from the title, this book will mainly be filled with incoherent rants topped with colorful language, but if that's not your thing, there's also some short stories, recommendations, and more potentially intriguing things.
So...
This isn't a recent story time, but I was in the mood to make another story since I've got memes for days, ya feel.
Anyways.
This was... two years ago, I wanna say. Maybe three now, actually. Tbh, I'm not sure lmao. All I know is that we were in a ten year old car that already had half its shit broken and we were going to Tampa (Busch Gardens specifically) which is a four hour drive for me. It was me, my little sister Phoebe, my mom, my stepdad (gags), and my cousin/bestie.
So, this is important, okay, we left at like ten or eleven in the morning. Everything was good. My mom was driving, so we were actually going to get there quick because my step dad drives like:
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ANYWAYS.
All of the sudden, the car starts to slow down and we're all like, "the fuck?" My mom has her foot on the gas, but still, the car is practically crawling at this point. To emphasize that my mom had her foot on the gas, she fucking slammed that shit. Gave me a heart attack, yes she did, but she proved her point.
She pulls over on the side of the interstate, and it's on the far side in the grass. My stepdad starts naming a bunch of random shit because he likes to think he knows what he's talking about (this is coming from a man who used super glue to fix the caulk around a shower, whatever), and my mom is already getting Triple A's number on her phone.
For those of you who don't know, they're a car transport/fixer service thing? Like they'll drive to you and repair something if it's simple, or they can get you a tow truck and stuff and it's for free if you're a member. Idk if it's like AAA or actually Triple A but all I know is that we call it "triple a" so you know. Just gonna write it as one of those.
My stepdad gets out and does something under the hood. I don't know. To his credit, she manages to crank it up. We start going again but she doesn't kick the speed up to far because the car starts jerking. Scared me shitless. I already don't like cars and I don't like interstates, so when you add a fucked up car on a busy interstate, you get an emotionally wrecked Julia, just saying.
She pulls over again. We've barely been on the road for an hour at this point. Maybe an hour and a half, at the most. She starts going a little farther, just trying to make it to the next exit so we can maybe get a rental at this point, because we don't trust this damn car anymore.
WOULD YOU BELIEVE THE NEXT EXIT IS A TOWN NO ONE KNOWS EXISTS?
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