Friday, February 13, 2009

Eat a dick, Valentine's Day, you can't kill me or my car!

I hate Valentine's Day; not for any real emotional or romantic reason, specifically, it's because it is the worst day of the year for me and my car. Which is ironically probably the most stable relationship I have with any one person or thing. I live in Los Angeles, I am entirely dependent on my car to get anywhere. My car and I have been through so much together in the 8 years we've known each other. Road trips (my car loves Vegas), romantic evenings (wink wink), fine dining and to make it even better, my car and my dog get along great, so I can hang out with them both and it's all good.

Unfortunately, V.D. (Valentine's Day) is trying to undo my autopian existence regularly every February 14th, at least for the last 4 years.

First, in Feb of 2006, I was t-boned by a very inattentive transgendered person in a Daewoo who had to be going at least 75 miles an hour up Vine and never even tried to hit the brakes. My poor guy was all banged up from fender to back door and I was entirely twisted from skull to sacrum. Even though the accident could have been avoided entirely for about 30 seconds before the impact, I was still held liable and probably bought his/her new vagina.

Then in 2007, I came outside at 8am to go to work and I had the dreaded Denver Boot on my car. After cab/bus/walking downtown to the spot I found out I had to pay in cash (exact change actually, can you believe it) and I didn't have $650 laying around in large bills so I had to hoof it a couple of miles to the bank and back and wait in line again only to wait several hours for the boot to be removed.

In 2008, I said "fuck it" and locked the car in the driveway and myself in my house to make sure we were both out of harm's way and it worked! I had planned to do the same thing this year but V.D. got the jump on me. On my way home today while stopped on Cahuenga, I was rear-ended by a lovely old Armenian codger in a 84 Tercel. My only problem with this whole thing is that he obviously can barely afford an increase in his insurance and he seemed like a nice guy. Why can't I ever get hit by a really rich guy in a really expensive car? I like my odds of being handed 10k in bills and Bearer Bonds on the spot. Back in like 1996, I was driving down Santa Monica blvd in Beverly Hills when a huge red Hummer flipped a U turn in front of me and almost killed me and my 89 Lebaron. When I looked at the driver to make eye-contact for a proper "F You" I realized in was Arnold Schwarzenegger and I probably should have let him hit me.

Anyway, I have to call my insurance company and set up an appt. for an estimate. Thanks a bunch Valentine's Day, you totally can suck a bag of dicks.

My dog likes to blog, but he has a short attention span: