There's a Joke About Love Bugs I Failed to Make. Oh Well.

So, maybe my imagination is a little more out of control than it should be, but here's how the story goes.

Alright, I'm driving down the highway, right? And I'm doing a good 90. I'm bookin' it. I'm fairly focused on the road, not really paying attention to anything other than weaving in and out of the "oversized loads" and that idiot who doesn't understand staying in the right lane when he isn't going fast enough to pass anybody, when suddenly something catches my eye. Some poor wasp managed to fly his little buggy self right in front of me. Too bad for him, right? It gets worse.

His little insect head managed to slide into the space between the hood of the car and the side. What I see is his silly stingy butt flopping around in the wind as he gets helplessly dragged along for a ride. For as sucky as that must have been, the only thing I could think was "you know, this reminds me a lot of relationships."

He made this face, no doubt.

Yeah, you heard me, that's what I said.

Let me break it down for you.

So you got this girl. She, like most girls, is "crazy, outgoing, funny, awesome, ditsy, and hyper." (Question: how many girls you know would describe themselves like this? Probably like, all of them.) She's just doing what girls do; going a billion miles an hour and not paying attention (lulz). Now before you ladies get mad at me for making fun of your tendency to not always pay attention, let me make fun of guys first in an attempt to cater to your desire for equality in sarcastic stereotype jokes.

Now you have me, the guy. I'm a dumb insect flying across the highway like a retard. (I know a few people who'll enjoy that image too much.) Some Mustang Sally comes cruising down the road and smacks me in my stupid wasp face. Bam, I'm trapped under your hood, arms flailing wildly in the 90 MPH winds, probably dead.

Relationships, right?

The guy'll be just minding his own business, flying around the highway, maybe looking for some sexy windshield to splat on, if that's what he's into, when Miss Ladyface swings along and picks him up. "Cool!" He might think. Cool indeed, dumb bug. But then the trip gets cut short when she hits a bump and you get knocked out of your cozy hood-noose-thing and go plummeting to your sad, sad demise/get decapitated.

Well, that's what happened to the bug anyways.

So there you have it. Cars and insects = relationships.