You’ve Got A Retarded Friend in Pennsylvania

It started off as a nice December day, but as if to portend things to come on my journey, I'm driving on the Pennsylvania Turnpike in a full-on hailstorm. What's more, the large coffee from Dunkin Donuts, the even larger coffee on the Jersey Turnpike, and the hot chocolate I got at some Pennsylvania backwater gas station have gotten together and decided to announce their presence, with a capital P.

I'm no stranger to relieving myself in less than standard conditions; hell, it's practically a family tradition. And 50 million truckers can't be wrong. So using the hail as an excuse for my behavior, I took the one quarter full cup of hot chocolate and carefully topped it off with Grade A urine, steering with my knees.

Displaying the grasp of the concept of cause and effect that a six year old might possess, I realized that I now had a steaming cup of chocolate pee in my cupholder. Gee, I hadn't thought this far ahead. Well, I've gone this far without succumbing to the logical urge to pull over. I'll simply roll down the window, dump out the contents, and dispose of the cup later. Just dump out the contents. In a hailstorm.

The wind blew it all back in my face, and then some. Doused with the hot urine of shame, I was also fortunate enough to take a few decent chunks of hail off the ol' noggin. Luckily I was able to clean my face with Armor All wipes I found in the back seat.

“Raise the cup and let's propose a toast
To the thing that hurts you most”