Gas, gas everywhere and not a drop to buy

Last weekend I was on a road trip home and stopped for gas in the great state of Pennsylvania.  Much to my chagrin, the debit card that I normally use to purchase extravagant things like food and other essential supplies wouldn't work.  Thinking that my card was broken, I called the 1-800 number.  Well, come to find out my account had been frozen for child support arrears.  I know what you're saying, Eric, you fucking bastard!  How can you shirk out on your fatherly duties?  It's true, I purposefully lost my job, lived in basements and accepted handouts to suffer for my craft.

As I sat there in my car wondering what to do about this dire situation, I thought, to myself, "Maybe if I sleep in my car tonight someone will break in and kill me."  I looked around for anything I could hock for about fifty bucks.  I figured I would probably get in trouble if I sold my work laptop and I would rather lose a leg than sell my iPod.  So, I braced myself for the March Pennsylvanian night.  Eventually, the migrant workers gathering around my car got me a little scared and I started to call for help.  After many "piss offs" and "you are a loser" from various friends and family, a kind soul, let's call her Karen, found a Western Union nearby and wired me some money.  After a few hours, I was back on the road.

The moral of this story you might ask?  Never have kids.

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