It struck me earlier how much life is like a car wash.

Some parts suck. Others spray cleaner on your interior glass. But of course, I mean "interior glass" solely from the metaphorical sence, as it alludes to that which lets us see outside and keeps the bugs of life from splattering against our foreheads and occasionally needs the washer fluid of clear reason to...

Ok, I got nothing.

Look, I was at the car wash and saw a bunch of folks scrambling over cars to get them clean and I'm pretty sure that I had some weird idea that related to how we should perceive our place in the great scheme of things. Unfortunately, that was about a month and a half ago and I'm pretty sure I had been drinking at the time.

Yeah, I know I shouldn't, but I really thought I could handle my slurpee this time.