The Guest Post From Hell

What in the hell is hell? I'm not a christian or a religious person. However, IF I could define hell, I'd say that it would be having your car break down in rush hour traffic on the freeway.

There are hundreds of people trapped behind you, cars and cars full of angry eyes, they honk their horns, give fingers and yell out their windows as they go around you.

The predicament makes you so frazzled you stop thinking straight and make a hasty decision to walk to a pay phone because your cell phone is dead. Along the way to look for a pay phone an SUV full of teenagers (who are obviously driving mommy's car) chuck a milkshake on you and proceed to laugh, and speed off, splashing you with a huge puddle of water beside the road.

By the time you call for help and get back to your car, it's been towed by the police because you essentially "abandoned" the vehicle without so much as leaving a note in the window (oops, won't ever do that again.) So then you end up trying to hitch a ride. Someone finally pulls over after you flash your hairy pasty white leg at them.

You get in the car and you enter the world of "Creepy Guy" who proceeds to hit on you in every way imaginable. After protesting his advances he goes psycho on you, and robs you at screwdriver point (that's when someone holds a screwdriver to your jugular and starts making demands - thank the stars he isn't demanding teh buttsecks.)

After being robbed and beaten about the head and neck with a screwdriver handle he dumps your half-conscious body near an underpass where a stray dog humps your leg and pees all over your head. This disgusts you, but nevertheless rouses you from your concussion, and you then begin walking to the nearest pay phone to call the police. But you realize you are in Crackville, have only spare change, and waiting for the cops to arrive in such a neighborhood isn't such a good idea any way. So realizing you have some change, you instead look for the nearest bus stop to get the "hell" out of Dodge.

While waiting for the bus a homeless guy asks you for some spare change. You tell him you don't have any, but he doesn't believe you. He gets angry and belligerent. He tells you that you are not a good christian, screaming that the apocalypse is near. And then he starts to throw feces on you. You run out into the street to escape the mad man and a bus nails you head on sending you airborne.

You land on a speeding car that veers out of control when the driver freaks out, and go crashing through the front window of a 7-11 breaking a gas main. The accident causes an explosion that nearly incinerates everything within 1,000 feet of it's epicenter.

You then wake up in the hospital (since you aren't dead yet) with 3rd degree burns over 95% of your body. In fact most of your flesh is gone and they have plans to do multiple skin grafts from the skin on your ass (the only place untouched by the explosion.) Months and months into the procedure, a nurse one afternoon forgets to keep your life support plugged-in and you slowly slip into a coma.

You wake years later and don't remember anything. Everyone you knew gave up hope that you'd ever "return", and they are no longer a part of your life to help refresh your memory or hold your hand through this difficult time. An inexperienced by-the-book representative from a collections agency shows up upon hearing of your recovery and since the insurance ran out a few years ago, he/she orders that you pay the sum of $12 million dollars for your hospital stay or you're out on the street.







That's hell.

Of course hell could also be allowing a guy like me to guest post on your blog.









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