Dana Lee wrote:
Well, I have a pretty quirky sense of humor. I am mildly obsessed with bad jokes and puns. The worse the joke or pun is, the more I will probably laugh. Here is a joke that my grandma always tells that is one of the best jokes that I have heard:
A young boy dressed as a cowboy walks into an ice cream parlor. With every request he points his hand as a gun (pretending of course) to the cashier.
Cashier: Can I help you?
Boy: I would like an ice cream please.
Cashier: Chocolate or vanilla?
Boy: Chocolate
Cashier: Would you like your nuts crushed?
Boy: Would you like your tits blown off?
Prompt: What is your favorite car you’ve owned? Write about a day in its life from the car’s perspective.
Melody Joy wrote:
My favorite car was my white 1998 Ford Escort station wagon. His name was Duvok. He unfortunately passed away in an accident several years ago. I’m choosing to write about his last day.
I was nothing if not flexible. I had to learn quickly with Melody to expect the unexpected. We went to and from college classes regularly, and then there were jobs and social outings and other such things. In her college days, I carried her sleeping bag and pillow and enjoyed her afternoon naps between classes. I carried her friends and family members. That was when I was a city car.
Then, I became a country car, and traded backpacks for bales of hay. One of the happiest moments of my life was when she loaded 12 hay bales inside me and tossed 2 more on top to move them all up to the other barn. She was so proud of me, and I was thrilled to see her so happy. Those were the days when I was especially flexible. Sometimes I would sit and wait to be used for days before she would have need of me, and then we would travel all the way to visit her parents.
She was my best friend, and the best owner I could ever have, and I don’t blame her at all for the accident that took my life from me. We were on the freeway, and everything stopped without warning, like it sometimes happens. There was a big SUV behind her that wasn’t paying attention. They got lucky, though, and swerved onto the shoulder in time to miss us. I didn’t have time to sigh in relief before the car behind the SUV slammed into us, nearly at full speed. The driver didn’t even know traffic was stopped until it was too late.
I limped off to the side of the road, gas leaking onto the road in a most embarrassing way. Only the front doors could open. Everything else was mangled shut forever. She cried as she snapped pictures of my damage, and I cried for her injuries, minor as they were. We both cried over the mutual loss of each other. Three days later, and I watched her leave for another country and a new adventure. Her parents made the call for her to the junkman, and he’s on his way now.
It’s been a good life, and I can’t complain. Of course I wish I could have lived longer, but I still go with no regrets, and I hope that all cars can be as happy as I was.
Photo courtesy of: Melody Joy
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