I've passed a parked car a couple of times now on my way to and from work that seems to have been crafted by Mr. Frankenwrench. Honest to god, there seem to have been at least 4 vehicles that gave their lives to the production of this one. At least 4 different colors of paint, including one that seems to be "primer." I picture a mad scientist in coveralls, calling for his humpbacked assistant to scour the salvage yards for the perfect transmission, so he can bring his beautiful creation to life. Hook that baby up to some jumper cables and wham! Frankencar. I can't imagine feeling safe driving or riding in this car. Aside from the consideration that the kind of accident that leaves body damage on all four sides of the car might certainly leave behind a less-than-perfect chassis, I would also be afraid that when the car began to sing an impassioned version of "Puttin' on the Ritz" in front of a judgmental audience, the audience might laugh, and the metal creature might become enraged and start mowing down everyone in its path. What? You don't think that could happen? Have I a) read too much Stephen King and/or b) watched "Young Frankenstein" too many times? Yeah, that could be true.
I would swear that at some point yesterday I had a perfect idea for a blog post today. But it's gone. Oh, well. I'm doing a production this weekend...let's call it "The Fridiron" to prevent any serious google searches...that is an evening of song parodies, mocking political and cultural figures, and afterward there should be drinking. Surely a blog post will come out of that!