I WON THE “DON’T COME TO A FULL STOP ON THE FREEWAY” GAME.
I’m a little too proud of myself for this.
107 Days
I could not deal with this woman and her stupid hat. Like, I wasn’t aware you could make a purple plaid messenger cap any fucking uglier, and then she had to wear it backward. This would look horrific on a misguided teenager, and yet this woman is rocking a blatant fashion fail in her early 30s.
Why, God? Why.
But seriously, what the fuck is up with my street and moon bounces? This is the third one on the block this summer, and it’s a different house every time.
Oh, and now my neighbors think I’m some kind of pedophile because I kept trying and failing to take a picture.
License Plate Frame: “I’m not spoiled! I’m not I’m not I’m not!”
The license plate itself simply read: “KRIISTA”.
File this under “People who are begging to get rear-ended part II”.
And then I saw a guy with a pot leaf tattooed on his enormous calf.
Patrons of California Pizza Kitchen: redefining class for as long as I can remember.
There are few better ways to say to the world “I am a huge douchebag, please forcibly rear-end me and maybe the whiplash will be strong enough to break my neck, kill me, and put me out of my miserable existence” than this license plate, which, if you can’t read it very well, reads: “ISKYDIV”.
Coincidentally, I nearly rear ended this poor bastard about twelve times trying to get a good shot of this.
Would you want this guy grooming your dog? He looks more like he’s gonna take all of those adorable puppies and stuff them with sawdust and leave them in his child’s bed or something. Just for a laugh. Seriously.
Oh, La Canada. How I’ve sort of missed you.
DINOSAURS?! Sign me up.
What is up with my neighbors and moon bounces? This is the neighbor on the right side of my house. The neighbors on the left side had the more awesome Pikachu one.
My street is like, all about these things.
Los Angeles has taxis? Are people asking for their bank accounts to get raped or something?
…But seriously, Los Angeles has taxis??
/fail right in front of my house. Fucker took my parking space and everything.
SO MUCH ROOSTER SAUCE.
Yeah, my neighbors own a Pikachu bouncy house. By the way.
Here’s the thing about mullets:
They did not look good in the 80s. They do not look good now. They will never look good, no matter what. There is no possible way to put a positive spin on what looks like a dead rodent cape that you’ve attached to the base of your skull.
So please, guy who ate at my restaurant tonight, do something about your mullet.
Why are driving schools always so super-sketch?
