May 23, 2012
This is majestic.
Don’t argue with me.
It’s majestic as shit.
If you don’t look at this and weep sugary delicious Kool-Aid tears of happiness, then you and me? We can’t be friends.
Wait. Scratch that whole Kool-Aid thingy.
Let’s make it tears of that awesome syrup that was inside those little wax pop bottles instead. Kool-Aid makes me think of that scary-ass giant pitcher with legs that was always running through walls and busting the crap outta houses and stuff. I don’t need that kind of unhinged violence in my life. Plus, Kool-Aid really is kinda nasty. One time my mom bought us Root Beer and Cola flavored Kool-Aid and that stuff was the shittiest stuff ever. Even if you added an entire bag of sugar it was still undrinkable. We even made popsicles out if it in ice trays with little toothpick sticks and tried to sell them to kids in the ‘hood to no avail. Even those hungry, parched from the summer sun, ding-dongy kids weren’t falling for that BS. Plus, Kool-Aid always makes me think of dead Jesus freaks. And that’s kind of a downer.
|Syrup from the Gods.
Much less depressy than dead Jesus freaks.
Anyways…back to that majestic candy bike up there at the top of the page.
It’s like Willy Wonka had an affair with Mr. Huffy and they had a baby. Somehow. I mean, it’s totally two dudes having this affair in my head. And two dudes can’t make a baby. But I’m pretty sure Wonka was gay in both versions of the movie, so I’m pretty much 110% positive that he didn’t do girls. And I don’t know nuthin’ about Mr. Huffy. There probably isn’t even a real Mr. Huffy. I just made that up. But if there was a Mr. Huffy I’m pretty sure he’d be gay. And if he wasn’t, he’d probably turn gay after meeting Wonka, cuz HELLO! That dude owns a candy factory that houses thousands of orange midgies and rivers of chocolate, and psychedelic acid trippy boat rides. And if you wouldn’t go gay for free candy, LSD trips, and orange midgie slaves that sing, then something’ just ain’t right with you. Something just ain’t right with you at all.
In case you wondered, I kinda want this bike. If by “kinda” we mean with every ounce of desire that I have in my body. Like, as much as I want air in my lungs, Norman Reedus on my bed, and beer in my belly.
Just take a moment and look at the big freaking cupcake on the back. Do you know what the frick THAT is? Do you know? It’s a storage space. Ya know, a place to put a change of clothes, or your phone, or a snack, or your finger monkey, or your Mogwai, or your E.T., or your booze, or the marijuana you’re gonna sell. Because let’s face it: Selling weed from this thing would be genius. Who would suspect it? Nobody, that’s who. And you’d automatically get the attention of every sky high person on your biking route of awesomosity, because you’re riding on something that looks like food. And there’s nothing that high people like more than food. Except getting more high. So BAM! There’s your clientele right there coming to you.
But that’s not what I would do with this bike. No. I just wanna do innocent things, like ride it around my ‘hood. Ringing a little bell and singing songs about how awesome I am and how sucky everyone else is on their plain old boring ass bikes. And yeah, those will be kids that I’m showing off to. But I don’t care. Kids are show-offy a-holes and we all know it. And just because I’m not “officially” a kid, doesn’t mean that I can’t play their a-hole games and kick butt at it.
Life’s a bitch when you don’t have a cupcake candy bike of awesome.
9 Responses to “I. Want. This.”
Leave a Comment
Don't have a Gravatar? (the small photo that shows up when you make a comment). Get one here, it's FREE: Sign up for a free Gravatar