Look out! Senior at the wheel!

It was a terrible day. Dreary, rainy, I was returning home after a jaunt to the supermarket for foodstuffs. I stopped behind 3 cars and waited, as a school bus let kids off. A few seconds later...



Yup, that's my poor baby. I screamed, and thank god I pressed hard on the brake. Felt my head hit the back of my chair hard, and froze for a few seconds. Cop comes. Directs us to the side of the road to exchange information.

The driver was 82. I was stopped for at least 5 seconds. Time enough, you would think, but nope. Not long enough for him to realize what was happening. I still have a headache. Tomorrow, we discover if I have whiplash. Grrreat.

Cops suck, again.

So I got a parking ticket, today. Where? Why, at my apartment building of course! For what reason? My expired tags. Now, had I seen the officer, I could have shown him the receipt for my new tags, proving that they are in the mail. Unfortunately, to dispute this claim, I actually have to go to the district court, fill out paperwork, get a court date, THEN go to court. Just to prove that I did what I was supposed to do, while that fucking cop didn't follow protocol and find out whether or not my car was in the system, which he would HAVE to do if he stopped me in traffic.

So now my car is out there, just waiting for another ticket that I don't deserve. Cops fucking suck.

Yaaayyyy... emissions testing day...

Well, I was driving to work yesterday, when those ever-friendly blinking lights showed up behind me. I let loose with the curses, checked to make sure I wasn't speeding (I wasn't) and that I was buckled in (I was) and my cellphone wasn't pressed against my ear (it was in my purse). Finding nothing wrong with myself, I began the whole, "Fucking cop, it's because I'm brown ain't it? Or because I drive a shiny yellow car? You fucking suck, cop!" I pull over, and he saunters toward m'car.

"Hello there, can I see your license please?"
"Sure."
"Your license plates are expired."
"...oh. Oh! I'm sorry!"
"Make sure you get that taken care of."

Boy did I feel like an asshole. In my defense however, I have a history of being stopped by shitty cops. On Sept. 11th, I was stopped by a cop, who had his lights on THE ENTIRE TIME, and then got yelled at for not moving when he parked behind me. See, I stopped by the curb to pick up a friend from the Metro, which this cop took to me parking in a no-parking-zone. However, my brakes weren't on, my engine was still running, and my friend was COMING DOWN THE STAIRS. He even watched as this gaddamn cop wrote me a ticket, and had enough time to take pictures.It's not that I hate cops. It's that I have horrible luck and tend to run into the meanest asshole cops in existence. You'd think the fact that I have TWO cops in my family (both of them brothers-in-law) and my sister works for the DC police would give me good cop karma. But no, all they see is a bright yellow car being driven by a little brown girl and it's "lets yell at this chick and give her a hefty fine" day. All except yesterday's cop, whom I would have gladly hugged in exchange for not giving me the ticket I probably deserved for not having done my emissions testing on time. Twenty days late, in fact.

Virginia is really really REALLY strict on these things, so I'm off to Midas to get Sunstreaker checked out. No worries, I already ate my breakfast.

Quick tip: Adding tabasco sauce to your scrambled eggs is AWESOME.

Bumper Nuts

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you...

Truck balls.

Truck balls, if you didn't already know, are these pretend testicles that you hang off of your bumper. I've been seeing them more and more, lately. At first, I thought it was cute. I mean, I laughed. Seriously. Truck balls?? Who'd do something like that?? Someone super awesome must do it.

Yeah, not so much. It's mostly a redneck fad, and I see them the further South I go. I don't know why I don't like this. See, I love rednecks. I find them endearing. I mean, sure they can be racist and sexist and severely homophobic... but in their own little way, they're also adorable. Middle to lower class workin' men and women, just tryin' t'get by, while listening to country music and driving trucks with plastic balls.

Are the balls supposed to represent manliness? I'm sure that they buy them as jokes. I mean shoot, they're funny to look at. But when it comes down to it, why? Why is it so needed? Why is some guy shelling out $10 for a pair of fake balls to put on his truck, if it was only for a 5 minute gag? Why do I see them everywhere? Is it some sort of conspiracy? A redneck fad? Are we so obsessed with masculinity that we need to showcase our reproductive organs on our giant gas-guzzling vehicles?

Or maybe I'm overthinking this. Likely it's just a bunch of guys that went, "Heh! Truck balls!" and bought a pair.

I thought about what Sunstreaker would look with some, and realized how artsy I was, because seriously.. I'd give that boy some golden pubes in the same color as his paint job. Make that shit look realistic. If my car's gonna have balls, they're gonna be HIS balls! But sadly, I doubt the idea will come into fruition. It just doesn't seem like a wise investment at the current time.

You know what does? Some strawberries. It's summer. I could use some goshdamn strawberries.