Slight drizzle my ass.

Alright so I wake up this morning and look out the window. What do I see? Well better question is what do I "not" see. The SUN! The fucking sun is hidden behind some gray bullshit the weather man calls a "storm coverage." Fuck him I say. What the fuck am I paying $3.39 a gallon a gas for if I don't get the FUCKING SUN all the FUCKING time? Bullshit that's what I say.

Then it doesn't even have the sack to fully rain. It just drizzles all fucking day. You know how they say a good heavy rain washes everying and makes everything look/smell clean and new. Well take notice that they don't say any fucking thing about a good drizzle. Why; you ask yourselves would they give such praise to a "rain" yet nothing about a good "drizzle?" They're both parcipitation, and in the world of political correctness rain and drizzle should be equals. I can tell you that it's because there is no such thing as a good drizzle. A drizzle in Los Angeles does a couple things. First it cleans nothing, it just smears all the filth around. Drizzle does not clean filth off, it just sort of seperates the filth from whatever its covering and moves it a quarter inch. So your car looks dirtier, your house looks dirtier and the city looks like a burned out Vietnamese village in a Kubric film. Secondly it makes the asshole drivers in LA do two things. So we're going into a sub-catagory here folks. Fist sub- It makes pussy drivers creep along at a pace that would make old people fucking, look like coupled up enigizer bunnies. Second sub- it makes douche bag drivers think their SUV's and their Bemmers with ATRAC, rack and pinion...whatever drive like complete and total two bit assface cum chugglers*(not that there's anything wrong with that). Third thing a half-assed drizzle does to LA is make the street people smell worse than they already do. Seriously its not enough wetness to drive them into shelters, under birdges, or into Paris Hiltons jeans but it is damp enough to make their multi-layered Z Cavariccis and "Frankie Says" t shirts smell like the crotch of a menstrating yak in the foothills of Mongolia. Dude that smells bad. I don't know personally what the crotch of a menstrating yak in the foothills of Mongolia smells like, I just had a wacky scratch-n-sniff book when I was little. My grandparents went on trip to Asia minor in the sixties...never mind I digress. Anyway so now the city looks dirtier(that's not a word), its unsafe to F'in drive, and the bums smell un-Godly. This is what I had to deal with in Hell-A(see what I did there with the whole "LA" thing?)

Rant over. My next blog will be cheery I swear.
* Please note I have nothing against anyones sexual practices. Hell I practice all the time. Guzzle whatever you want I don't care.