You Can’t Stop Driving Day!

Your ex-girlfriend used to design parking lots and since she left you’ve been unable to park your car without being reminded of her. She hurt you real bad, left you for your landlord, and you just can’t handle knowing that every time you park your car you might be doing it thanks to her ingenuity of drawing straight lines on a paved lot. It’s made it so that every time you get into your car to run an errand, you find yourself unable to park. You just keep driving until you run out of gas or open the door and roll out of the car while it’s still moving, hoping that it crashes lightly into a tree or a river and not some kids.

Your therapist was good enough to give you one last session. He’s running beside your car right now, trying to open the passenger door. He needs you to go slower.

“I’m only going five miles per hour,” you shout at him.

“Slower!” he pants. “I can’t get in!”

“I’m going three miles an hour! If I go any slower I’ll park. I can’t park!”

“I can’t get in. Slower!”

He’s grabbing at the door handle, slapping at it but he can’t seem to get a good enough grip to open it.

“This won’t work! Call me!”

You keep driving and you watch your therapist shrink in the rear view. You look over at the door and realize you forgot to unlock it. You can’t help but burst out laughing. You laugh and you laugh until you see the post office and you roll out of the car to pick up some stamps. The car crashes into a Blockbuster Video, which is convenient since you had to return “Becoming Jane” anyhow. It's sitting on the dash.

Happy You Can’t Stop Driving Day!

Tug Connection Day!

Go on a game show where contestants jerk it to a particular piece of porn while the audience watches, then the audience gets to vote on who had the strongest connection to the porn they were matched up with. The contestant chosen by the audience is awarded $5,000 so he can quit his job and stay home to jerk off to that piece of porn for like two months.

You’ll do your best, but the porn they give you will be the kind where the cameraman talks while the people are doing it, saying stuff like, “Wow, that looks like a warm place!” It’s a genre called Greek Chorus Porn and you hate it. You need your fourth wall.

You don’t win the money. Go home to find your girlfriend sitting on the couch, next to a suitcase. You’ve disappointed her again. She’s leaving.

“You didn’t even try,” she says.

“The porn was miserable. The cameraman reached out and high-fived the guy in it once.”

“You were thinking about me. I could see it in your face. All of America could see it. You were sitting there jerking off, thinking about how angry your girlfriend will be if you don’t win the money.”

“I wanted to make you happy.”

“If you can’t provide me with the kinds of luxuries that $5000 can buy, I’m going to go out and seduce someone who can. I’m sorry, but I need a man to give me stuff.”

She leaves. Go to the TV and replay the episode on your DVR. She’s right. You do look like you’re faking it. Like you’re a million miles away from your own right hand.

Happy Tug Connection Day!