Archives for August 2004
I hate parking tickets.
I hate parking tickets.
I hate parking tickets.
I got two of these motherfuckers today, $25 apiece, because I forgot to move my cars from the west to the east side of the street for street cleaning.
GODDAMMIT, WHY THE FUCK DOES THIS FUCKING CITY EVEN HAVE STREET CLEANING? IT’S SUMMER. SUMMER! WHERE ARE THE LEAVES? WHAT NEEDS TO BE CLEANED OFF THE STREETS—DUST?!
This is some bullshit, man.
Not once, but twice in the recent past I have noticed on the road a very strange looking Cadillac Escalade. Something wasn’t right about it. Something about the shape. Something about the size. And certainly something about the front grill, which was most certainly not the distinctive, aggressive grill of the Escalade.
I’m pretty sure that the twentysomething hacks driving those vehicles bought GMC Yukons and stuck Cadillac decals on them.
Uh, but seriously, what the hell is that?
And to see two in the span of month? Ridiculousness, I tell you! Ridiculousness!
I been jonesin’ for some good music lately. Most of the new stuff blows, so I’m carted out the old CD case and found the first MP3 CD I ever made. Combined with a few new bits, here are six songs currently recommended by yours truly:
You may now steal from the RIAA.
I love efficiency. Here are three ways to improve the efficiency of restaurants.
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I’ve always been a stingy bastard. In fact, if you look back to the very first entry in the jotsheet, you’ll see perfect confirmation of this fact:
i’m a thrifty guy. i tell ya what, there ain’t nothin better than getting a good deal on somethin. you hearin my noise? but see, the downside is that i hate spending lots of money, and i’m always second-guessing myself. i should learn to be content and enjoy stuff.
I’ve noted how worthless I believe music critics are. Those in Rolling Stone, Spin, Blender, and the countless other boiler plate music rags out there have taken their worthlessness to a new level with a new fad: making lists of bad music, rather than good music.
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“Hey, Dad. I bought a car today.”
“Really? Me too!”
I bought a Scion tC in “flint mica.” Dad opted for the slightly more upscale Infiniti G35 Sport Coupe in “brilliant silver.” Good thing he moved on from his initial inclination toward a “mini-SUV” in the image of a Saturn Vue or a Hyundai Santa Fe. Blech.