Moving to Alaska wouldn't be cool enough if I went the easy way, so I bought a 4WD and am ready to tackle the Alcan. In the meantime, having a car in The City is a bitch.Even being a sneaky sneaky and getting your sister's extra handicap placard to avoid feeding the meter doesn't make it hassle free. Technically I'm handicapped in all sorts of ways so don't start whining to me about how that's illegal.Last night I got to move the car at 1am in my pajamas, half asleep. Made friends with a street gentleman who spotted me as I groggily parallel parked my SUV. Thank you, sir. Witnessed a top notch freak out between a seemingly clean cut guy and the air around him "I HATE YOU MOTHERFUCKER! I FUCKING HATE YOU! I HOPE YOU CURDLE IN BLOOD!! I"M SPIRITUAL!!! SPIRITUAAAAAALLLLL!!" Congrats on your spirituality dude, what does it mean to curdle in blood, anyway? Participated in another spiritual awakening, this time a tweaked out hipster reading propaganda from the Christian Science Cult gathering place to me as I walked by. Got to waive to the friendly counter girl at Bob's Donuts, a la Cosmo Kramer. She's witnessed many a tipsy, late night donut splurge from this carb lover, that's for sure. Mind you, this was all in the span of two blocks. I love my neighborhood.
Picture above: Rockstar parking snagged when I had to move AGAIN at 7:30 AM and the caboose of Shopping Cart Train Man. Not to be confused with Suitcase Man, Shopping Cart Tranny, Boombox Guy or Wheelchair Man. More on all that later if you wish. Picture below: Solid evidence that someone had a much rougher night in the 'hood. It's a bra, vodka bottle and straw seen in the gutter by the bus shelter.
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