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Thursday
Nov292012

Filth on wheels

Will Stennett

Reporter

I’ve been called Pig-Pen and I’ve been called Oscar the Grouch throughout my short life. Primarily, it’s because I tend to be messy and unorganized.  I would resent the notion being named Oscar the Grouch if it wasn’t for my brooding eyebrow ridge and furry caterpillar eyebrows that resemble him so much.

Pig-Pen, with a cloud of dust surrounding him, makes a mess wherever he goes which is cool and kind of endearing. But Oscar the Grouch is basically a spinach-looking jerk who lives in a trash can and constantly says things that don’t make sense, because he’s too busy eating the Captain D’s you just threw away. I could stand for being some dude that shouts at people for no reason (which I don’t) and I could stand for eating Captain D’s (which I do), but I couldn’t stand living in mine and your collected filth.

Our cars are a cesspool for what we collect, whether it be for on-the-go, our work, school, etc. The car is our second residence – like a snowball gathering more and more snow as it pushes downward, we gather more and more junk in our vehicles.

Andrew Partin and Bronwyn Teague are both friends and theatre students at MUW, and both frequently ride in each other’s cars. As I begin to talk and ask questions about trashy cars, they both begin to make jokes about Bronwyn’s minivan.

“Really, to answer what the most random thing in the mini-van is,” Teague says, “you would probably have to take a survey (of her friends). I mean, I have alotta crafts in there, fake blood, Groucho Marx glasses…” says Bronwyn trailing off.

“Drew (Partin) intentionally put a Viking helmet in his car,” Bronwyn adds.

“Oh yea, that’s right, I had a Viking helmet in my car. I also had a toaster,” says Partin. “I deliver pizzas, so there is a lot of receipts and some pizza boxes in my car.”

“Everything in my car is useful,” says Bronwyn, “I’d say it’s definitely a reflection upon me. I mean, I’m random. I’m a hodgepodge of random things.”

“The only time I don’t like how messy my car is, is when other people are with me,” says Partin, “it makes me self-conscious. Though I wouldn’t say it reflects me, I usually blame it on my job.”

Blaine Garrard is clean, organized and meticulous. I watch him carefully dress his salad and fold his trash into collected squares as I ask him a personal question.  

“I wouldn’t ever sit nude in my car; I wouldn’t trust myself not to fart,” Garrard tells me.

With that said, Garrard’s car is very clean.

“I mean, what do you mean by trashy?” Garrard asks me. “I have a lot of stuff in my car, but it’s usually art projects, or things I’m taking to and from school.”

“I’m not gonna drop the word OCD, because I’m not. I’m just an organized person,” Garrard says. “I feel like if someone can see my car is dirty, then they can assume I don’t take care of myself hygienically.”

With that said, I think I found the Charlie Brown to my Pig-Pen.

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