Rhonda and I have one last moment together...

Eulogy To Rhonda

Oh, Rhonda. Yours was a simple life. You were so selfless, always wanting what was best for me. Always, "No, Laura, go ahead. Go inside the air conditioned house while I sit here in the driveway, baking in the sun until my leather cracks. I'll be here when you need me." Or, "No, Laura, I will spin my wheels in the snow once more for you, because you're too retarded to realize that you're making it worse."

I am sorry for the following things, Rhondito.
-I'm sorry that I didn't clean you more often. I'm sorry that your floor is covered almost completely in pennies and/or pop cans. I'm sorry for that one time I spilled ice cream in your cup holder and instead of cleaning it up, I just closed the cup holder lid and left you like that for a year, until my dad found it and pulled the cup holder out and put it through the dishwasher. What can I tell you, I'm a dirt ball.
-Sorry for that time I put you in reverse and drove you directly into Rob's house.
-Sorry for that time I was at a gas station and the guy in front of me started to back up, but instead of honking your horn I just waived my hands around and he hit you.
-Sorry that you only got a bath once a year.
-Sorry for whatever I did to your radio.
-Sorry for that time I parked you at Olde Peninsula and someone hit you and sent you flying across the parking lot.
-Sorry for letting you get broken into twice last year.

But all that aside, I loved you Rhonda. Somebody old and dead once said "We hurt the ones that we love the most", Rhonda Rhondito, so I must have loved you a whole hell of a lot. Drive off into the sunset, Rhonda. You'll have to hum to yourself or something because your radio doesn't work. Also, you probably won't get that far, because there's no gas in your tank right now, and something's wrong with your catalytic converter. Oh, and also, your check engine light is on. But you drive anyways, Rhonda. You go, girl.


R.I.P.
Rhonda Honda
1996-2005