Random BlabberingThis is the WTF? section. You know, when something happens to you and you think to yourself WTF? Why is that dick speeding up when I try to pass him? Why are there forty cars sitting at this red light for five minutes spewing hyrdocarbons when there isn't a single car going through the green light? How in the hell has Rush Limbaugh not exploded like the Hindenburg?
|
|
Written by Efrain Olivares
|
|
Thursday, 15 January 2009 16:00 |
|
I've been pretty under whelmed by some restaurants, but the blubbering incompetence exhibited by this wait staff earned remarkably high dumbass points. So much so, that I had to share it with you all. On this particular evening, my long-suffering and incredibly patient fiancée Ana and I went to join a friend for a birthday celebration at - you guessed it - a sushi place named Kabuki. When we arrived, there was no more room at the main table because apparently a few people who had declined the invitation showed up anyways. As a result, there weren't any more seats for us with the birthday group. |
|
|
Written by Bonnier Moulton
|
|
Wednesday, 17 December 2008 16:00 |
|
I'm sure the title alone persuaded many of you to read this article. What a bunch of '60s throwbacks you are. Sorry to disappoint, but this one isn't about the chronic. It isn't 4:20 and I don't have "glaucoma". But I do have a tale to tell. |
|
Written by Efrain Olivares
|
|
Tuesday, 18 November 2008 16:00 |
|
I realized too late that I would be traveling out of town on the day of the general election. As the child of two parents who immigrated to this country when very young, it's an honor to do so. In Los Angeles County, you can vote early by going to the Los Angeles Country Registrar. So, on Monday morning (my favorite day of the week) I woke up at 6am (which I never do unless I'm going racing) and drove through Los Angeles rush hour traffic (which I hate) to go do my civic duty. |
|
Written by Bonnier Moulton
|
|
Wednesday, 03 September 2008 16:00 |
|
There's nothing quite like a trip to the post office. At the best of times it's unpleasant. At the worst of times it's a nightmare that would make Stephen King wake up in a cold sweat. The other day, I made a trip to the post office to mail a few packages. As post offices go, my local version isn't too bad. It's small, the folks are friendly and since I live on a university campus, it's usually filled with college kids. It is a post office though, so the line is typically a 10-15 minute affair. |
|
|
|
|
|