Flashlight Rash Night

I bought a 10-pack of flashlights yesterday at Home Depot. Seriously. As you can tell by the photo, they have since become a burden.





I saw these babies sitting on a shelf by the checkout lane and thought, "Who the fuck needs 10 flashlights ?" And then I saw the price tag - $10, and thought, "I need 10 flashlights!"

I sat alone in my car afterwards, feeling intense buyer's remorse. In fact, it was so intense that I passed out and began dreaming about a faraway place. A place where I'd never have the chance to make idiotic purchases. A place with waterfalls. And loose native women on horseback.

I smile a toothy grin at them, but my teeth are made of little flashlights that shoot beams of white light into their beautiful eyes, blinding them. Another native woman shows up. Except this one looks like the sound of Mr. T's laughter. Peculiar. Oh great, now there's an arrow lodged in my neck. Here comes the blood...

...I was awakened by a security guard knocking on the window of my car. "You can't sleep here, sir. It's midnight. We're closing."




It's been a weird summer.