...than when I'm driving a tank of propane for the grill back from the hardware store. I'm on high, extra-jumpy alert for any little bump or jostle. It's like driving all night, hopped up on crystal meth with two dead hookers in the trunk and a busted tail light.
Maybe I've said too much.
Rob
Monday, September 12, 2005
I'm never more nervous...
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5 comments:
and steak and eggs after you dump the body? those were the days
It was that night when I wrote "Sweet Caroline."
It doesn't bother me that much, but I can never find a way to secure the damn thing aside from belting it in like a passenger in my backseat. I have to go to a lot of trouble to put down a blanket...
Can't someone design a better propane tank, or maybe a tank HOLDER? Something nice and square?
--*Rob
That'd be lovely.
What works best for me is putting it in the space behind the front passenger seat, and pushing the seat back as far as it can go.
Oh, and if you were trying to make me thing you were talking about a dead hooker with your first paragraph... it worked.
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