Other than electricians and serial killers, who drives a van? I'm not talking about soccer mom mini-vans, but vans of the full-size variety. Every time I see one on the road, I automatically assume the I'd Fuck Me guy from Silence of the Lambs is driving. It's always that same two-tone brown and tan with rust along the bottom and curtains in the back windows. You can't see the driver because the windows are tinted, and there's a crack running horizontally across the windshield. And no matter what the temperature, the windows are always closed. There is an assortment of blunt objects, blades and power tools in the back, as well as an endless supply of duct tape and an old tattered love seat with an orange flower pattern. The next time you see this van, and you will, get the hell off the highway, stop at your nearest Brothers Bar-B-Que, have some lunch and wait for him to murder someone else.
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