Left to right…
Mortified Maureen: “I cannot believe that you made me pee in the men’s bathroom. It was insulting and degrading and I’m never coming back here. And stop walking so fast! Just because you have legs longer than the Empire State Building doesn’t mean the rest of us should have to suffer.”
Jaunty John: “Oh, quit your gripin’. You had to pee, I found you a place to pee. I can’t help it if the ladies’ room was out of order. How was I supposed to know that Joan Crawford had just tried to flush the earnings report for Pepsi?”
Voided Vicar: “What’s that you’re saying about moaning crawfish?”
Dishing Driver: “You’d think she’d be more upset about that ugly hat she’s wearing instead of where she had to squat.”
Windshield Wiper: “And just how in the hell do they expect my little ass to clean this whole piece of glass?”
Carriage return, left to right, redux.
Maureen: “I get the sense that you don’t respect me. And why does this jacket smell like gin and regret?”
John: “Oh, quit your snipin’. You were cold and wanted a jacket, I found you a jacket. I can’t help it if the jacket belonged to Tallulah Bankhead. And as for respect, you don’t have a penis, so why are you expecting that from me?””
Vicar: “Did someone say Venus? Is it in the sky right now? Is it night? I never know anymore.”
Driver: “I have a penis. And the image of the Empire State Building inspires me in a way that I don’t fully understand.”
Wiper: “Am I the only one who understands how completely wrong everything is in this scene?”
Carriage return, rinse and repeat.
Maureen: “I’m tired of not being validated, John. Just because you make my toes curl doesn’t mean I’m always going to click like on your blog. So to speak.”
John: “Well, I’m tired of you expecting validation. I’m an overrated movie star and I can do whatever I want until social media is invented. And there are plenty of other toes I can curl.”
Vicar: “Why are we talking about valleys now? What happened to Venus? Are we still looking for her?”
Driver: “I just realized that I don’t want a valley or a Venus. Hmm. No wonder my mother never talks to me about wanting grandchildren. Mommas always know.”
Wiper: “I’m swiping left on all of this mess.”
Writer: “That’s the most honest line of dialogue I’ve scribbled today. Thank you, Wiper Buddy.”
Wiper: “My pleasure. Say, do you have any WD-40 handy? My gears are a little constipated. They smell like rust and regret. And Tallulah.”
Previously published on “Crusty Pie”, modified considerably for this post.
Categories: Past Imperfect
Bonnywood Manor 
What about those ugly spants? Make no wonder there was trouble in pee-land.
Wonderfully funny, Brian. The best part? That teeny tiny wiper with the attitude. I always did like those (or their human facsimiles). 😉
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I nearly wet myself when I first studied this photo and spied the tiny wiper. I knew right away that I would have to feature it in whatever story I could get out of the mess
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I kept waiting for the Driver to celebrate his revelation by reaching out and giving that horn a firm but gentle squeeze.😂
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Oh, that’s a great angle. I might have to start running story ideas by you just to make sure I capture all the possibilities… ;0
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I’ve always been rather partial to the ‘carriage return’.
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So many memories… 😉
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So much to unpack here. But the jacket smelling of gin and regret hits a chord.
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This may or may not have been an autobiographical story…
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Three cheers for the wiper blade, that tiny car part that is rarely featured in automobile ads and until this day, NEVER in the blogs.
Also, the carriage return.
Love it.
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Thanks, Maggie. We’re all about equality here at Bonnywood, welcoming one and all. Even the tiny and/or outdated… 😉
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Maureen ought to have peed on John’s shoe. That would have shown him!
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Unless he happened to like that sort of thing. Of course, to discuss the matter any further could get me slapped with an “adult content” warning by WordPress, and nobody has time for that… 😉
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Oddly enough this past week has shown a few bloggers (me among them) offering ‘less than G or PG’ commentary. I never gave a thought to the ‘Content Police’. Thanks for the heads up, man! Drifting into speculation about unusual ways of floating one’s boat can be tricky…
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I was somewhat joking with the content warning, but you’re right, we have to keep on our toes. Sadly, it’s not so much WordPress folks monitoring us, on their own, that we have to worry about. It’s more the disgruntled bloggers out there who simply don’t like your content and will report you, trying to get you labeled as “adult” just to restrict access to your blog. It’s happened to a few friends of mine. Luckily, in both cases my friends got the restriction removed, but it was a pain in the wazoo getting it fixed…
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What a flighty transport of delight, X3.
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I aim to please. Well, most of the time. Okay, fine, I never aim. If if happens to hit the target, it’s pure happenstance.
And yes, I’m talking about blogging. Not that other activity that I know came to your mind..
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Whatever can you possibly mean, he asked in wide eyed innocence?
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Hold me closer, tiny wiper, count the headlights on the highway.
Say, I wonder if automakers ever explained their tiny wipers, or why half a windshield was just as good as a full windshield? Oh the questions that plague my mind. Like, why is Winston Churchill talking to John Wayne? And why does Maureen have a Tribble on her head?
Sigh.
We may never know.
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Naturally, you’ve won my heart with the Elton reference. Not that you didn’t have it already.
I don’t understand windshield-wiper coverage, either. On my beloved RAV4, there’s one critical spot that the wipers simply do not reach. You’d think somebody could have figured this out by now.
Perhaps Winston is inquiring if John has seen his Tribble? And Driver/Father Mulcahy is wondering if anyone will ever ask to see HIS Tribble…
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