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Thursday, June 05, 2008

STOP FUCKING TICKETING ME.

Today marks the THIRD DAY IN A ROW that the City of Chicago has ticketed my car for having expired plates. On Monday, June 2nd, I ordered my renewal sticker online and received an email confirmation later that day. I swear, if I get another ticket tomorrow night, someone as the Department of Revenue is getting shanked.

I am going to write a note on my car tonight that says, "Psssst. I know you are writing me a ticket. You might want to think again jackass because that shadow in the window behind you is me. Watching you. With a sniper rifle. Go ahead. Dooooooooooooooooo it."

I am fucking livid right now. I'm going to make poster sized copies of my receipt and tape them to the hood of my car with a sign that says, "See this man ticketing my car? STONE HIM." and I'm going to leave a big pile of jagged rocks by the curb with a smaller sign that says "Use me".

It's all about the menacing signs and notes, really.

And it's the same fucking guy every night at the same time. Officer Young, Badge #1005 between the hours of 10:30 - 10:40 PM. I'm gonna find you and cut you, Officer Young...even if I have to stake out my car all night. Even if I have to sit on the curb for hours widdling my shank.

Yeahhhhh so you could say I'm still harboring a little hostility. The City of Chicago and I have had a sordid history that began about 67 tickets ago.

Not even Barack Obama standing in the middle of Wrigley Field hoisting the Stanley Cup over his head could make me happy right now.

14 comments:

Peter said...

Where was Officer Fuckface when the bastards were stealing your stereo?

Also, what did you use to make your shank? Filed down toothbrush? Metal bed leg? Prison issue shoe?

And why do I suddenly want to watch Shawshank now?

Todd said...

You should fight all of those at the same time. That's ridiculous.

Hellafied said...

Peter: I changed my mind. I'm going to whip him with the loose cables hanging out of my dash from my stolen radio.

Todd: That's the thing with the City of Chicago. They ticket you so much that eventually your spirit is broken and you just give them your checking account number so it's easier for everyone.

laura said...

megan--i will take the second shift on officer fuckface (nice peter) watch. i will then signal you with a birdcall, perhaps that of a sparrow or lark, when he approaches so that you can pounce and whip at the appropriate moment while i lurk in the shadow, observing, only to jump at the moment that backup arrives to arrest you and i can declare "you dont have to answer any questions--this interview is over" all law and order style. boo-ya

Eleanor said...

megs, this is how i envision us killing officer fuckface. first, we get ready. we get fucking decked out in our finest. you with your tits out, me with my ass almost hanging out (almost- i'm not a whore). our crowning glory is our red stiletto fuck me heels (the ones we have that are almost identical). then we split a bottle of boone's. fuck that shit, we each get our own. we sit and wait outside while smoking a pack of parliment light 100's. skanks in the darkness...just barely illuminated by the moonlight. officer fuckface approaches. we allow him to ticket your car. then you walk up, all sultry like, flicking your cig onto the street after one long, final drag. you say, "hello officer. we've been waiting for you." He coughs nervously. I walk out and say, "you know sir, she actually registered for new plates. it seems awfully unfair to ticket her because of our slow postal system." I take a long drag off my cigarette. "doncha think?" He clears his throat and makes up some excuse about not wanting to ticket you but how it's just his job and it's not really his fault. you say, "we don't blame you, sir. we really don't. we just wanted to test out our new shoes." then you smack him in the face with your ysl clutch (circa when tom ford was still creative director...not the shit they have now) and he's down on the ground. you jam one gorgeous suede stiletto into his eye, kill bill style. i casually walk up, slam one of my matching heels into his other eye, take one last puff of my cig and then drop it on his fuckfaced chest. you throw your head back and let out a vicious laugh. your honey brown hair catching the light of the streetlamp.

end scene.

i mean, why not kill in style?

Hellafied said...

Laura & E.Lo: Cancel your plans for tonight...

Peter said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Peter said...

Second sexiest crime spree ever.

(That Unabomber had knowing eyes.)

dmbmeg said...

Hmmmm this sultry thing is nice and all, but nothing says FUCK YOU like a bat to the kneecap.

Anonymous said...

I had the exact same experience. I even printed out the confirmation email and taped it to my car. Those fuckers still gave me tickets, like five of them in a row.

love your blog

Rambler said...

67 ???

Cunning_Linguist said...

I like how you have your tits out but Eleanor covers up her ass because she isn't a whore.

It's also quite wordy to be spur of the moment. She's been planning/fantasizing about this for a while. Makes me wanna put on a fake cop outfit and be Officer McNasty for you ladies.

Random Esquire said...

I'm ashamed to tell you that I've had an expired tag for the last...6 days now and have escaped ticketing. For the most park, my car has been parked in a gated lot but each time I drive, I remember that the tag is sitting in my glove box and needs to be applied.

The thing I hate is getting my Chicago sticker each year.

At 67 tickets, I feel personally compelled to thank you for the tulips you planted along Michigan Avenue.

Michael Tragic said...

I think officer Young needs to be teabagged :-)