don't follow me. I am speeding through the desert in the back seat of a fast moving Impala. I am buckled in and bound and gagged in a duct tape cocoon. Someone has put a stick between the steering wheel and the accelerator, and pointed this car towards the Grand Canyon. If the tires survive the sharp rocks and cacti, I will be launched into the abyss. If the car stalls out and gets stuck, I will roast in the sun with minor cuts and bruises for 3 days until the air from my last breath decides someone else needs it.