Monday, May 23, 2011


I like to give a big thanks to the gentleman at the car wash that yesterday tried to give me a car that wasn’t mine. It really helped my ego thinking that you would assume that me, the guy sporting running shorts and a zombie cupcakes T-shirt would drive a Lincoln Navigator with 26” rims and custom naked lady embossed window tint motif.

When the 5’02” gentlemen with the flat brimmed cap still adorned with the “official” NFL hologram tags felt threatened that the “total sick” Navigator with the custom build kicker boxes might go home with someone else, hilarity ensued. Upon explaining that it was just a mistake by the car wash staff member and I would never threaten the relationship between a man and his ride this then meant that we were buddies. Buddies that explain the HUGE amounts of money put into customizing your ride. We then bonded over his 26” chrome spinner rims to my polished Italian wheels. What can I say? You bond with your fellow man at the car wash.

My new bestie gave me a fist bump and as we both pulled out of the car wash, me in my sports sedan with the spoiler and him in his Lincoln SUV. He gave me a little toot on his horn. That sounded like polka.

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