We were about an two hours out of San Diego when I decided that I was going to partake in my new favorite activity, Photoshopping my face over the faces of my favorite bands, listening to their live albums and pretending the people are cheering for me at the end of every song. The only problem was that my computer was dead and John was charging his phone, so I plugged in the new one-to-two plug we got for the van’s lighter, put in the DC adapter and John’s phone into it and commenced to live my rock and roll fantasies. A couple minutes into it we all started smelling something funny and it was agreed that it must be the new asphalt that we were currently driving on. That was until I noticed the smoke billowing out of the dash. Luckily the five years I spent living in an oxygen free environment while I was training to a double secret Navy Super S.E.A.L came in handy—I ripped it out of the dash and threw it directly into my lap. The next twenty seconds or so were similar to Benny Hill sk...
blogs that howl from outer space