I know what you’re thinking: “Wow Kate. What a craptastic still life of your gas can. Where can I buy a print?”

Well, I’m sorry to disappoint but there shall be no prints of this crapsterpiece. But, there is a story, of course. You see, this 1.5 gallon bottle of explosive liquid lives in my front closet.

“Wow Fascinating!”

I knew you’d like. You see the scooter (remember the scooter?) got 80 mpg, which of course rocked, but only had a 2 gallon tank, which made anything resembling a long trip something akin to a pain in my ass. After riding on fumes down the highway praying to Mercury, Ganesh, and anyone else who would have me to let me make it to the approaching rest-stop (because there hadn’t been an exit with a gas sign for miles) I got it and would throw it in the top-box whenever I needed to go more than a few miles.

Now, lacking a top box, or a fuel gauge, but possessing 4.8 gallon gas tank, it lives in the closet. Every time I walk past the closet I catch a faint whiff, and it’s as if a little voice was speaking up saying “You know… the bike’s right over there, and the keys are right over here….”

Tonight there was also a hint of “Wow, you could so be trailer trash with this scent…”

I’ll have you know I don’t live in a trailer, although I did live in an RV…. which is like a trailer except it can actually move, as opposed to theoretically move. All I’d need *shudder* is a boyfriend *shudder* with a handlebar mustache *shudder* and …..*barrrrrrrf*

bleh. Excuse me. What a horrible thought. If only I had a pretty lady on the couch with me to help wash it away.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, June 4th, 2008 at 12:00 am and is filed under Comic. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.