Thursday, January 20, 2011

Care for California



Ranting Scum said...

I once worked for Southern Cal Edison...a damn good comapany but the citizens of Californication beg, plead and demand to be assraped hard. So they are. Californicatortioners have the highest electric rates in the nation (possibly excluding the island of Hawaii.


This allows SCE and PGE and LADWP and whatever name SDG$E uses now to make more money while the state of fools is bankrupt.

They deserve it!


Plus, I almost ran over a fucking moran with an electric wheelchair darting into heavy traffic in a crosswalk that wasn't at a light tonight.

Think...stupid old lady IN AN ELECTRIC in the lane next to me so she WAS BELOW MY VISION LEVEL...pops out in front of me in a crosswalk without a stop light.

Metro would have just Costco'ed me if I hadn't noticed and used Celia's brakes.

She didn't even notice she almost died. Probably thinks...I had right of way over that assfaces two ton car.

She had that self righteous it won't be me fault attitude I'm dead look.

She needs to live in California.

Let them all kill themselves and then we can fuck the bodies.

Or maybe it's just me???

D said...

Scum -

How does an old crone in wheelchair "dart" anywhere?

Are you one of those whippersnapper speed demons?


Lavi D. said...

How does an old crone in wheelchair "dart" anywhere?

Some of those scooters are pretty "zippy"

From the balcony here (DD calls it the "lanai deck"), we've seen several of the neighbors defy death in their ImAGo chariots of fire.

We've seen an old guy with a cowboy hat the size of Texas who must believe he's driving a semi as he jerks spasmodically across traffic, a 300lb+ woman who dresses like a clown, replete with orange Bozo wig tooling down the gutter lane and sundry other folk whose contempt for (or ignorance of) moving vehicles is quite surprising.

Why the street isn't littered with the remains of wheelchairs, lip piercings and strollers is a mystery.

Perhaps the city just vacuums everything up in the middle of the night.

Every now and then when your life gets complicated and the weasels start closing in, the only cure is to load up on heinous chemicals and then drive like a bastard from Hollywood to Las Vegas ... with the music at top volume and at least a pint of ether.

-Hunter S. Thompson

Dedicated to the other side of Las Vegas, namely; the sprawling, mad, incoherent underpinnings of the world's favorite destination.

That, and the occasional ranting about nothing in particular.