About two days ago I stepped on a dead pigeon. Yeah, you heard me. A dead pigeon. I had parked on the street on Beverly Drive because I was going to pick up some pizza, and when I got out of the car I saw a dead pigeon on the ground between my car and the one in front of me. No, I didn't kill it, but still. Its little beak was open and it genuinely looked like its last words had been, "If only I had more time...more time...". It was tragic. Its little beady eyes were still filled with emotion. I stepped over it and shuddered. Then I kind of forgot about the dead pigeon while I was getting the pizza. Until I walked back to the car and heard this sound: squish. I had STEPPED on the poor pigeon. I had heard its innards slosh around. There must be some symbolism to that somewhere. Of course, I did wipe my feet before getting back into the car. But somehow the pizza just didn't taste as good as it should have.

In other notes, I have discovered that the best way to avoid getting a parking ticket is to park illegally and then place an old parking ticket that you never paid cuz you're broke and just waiting for that boot on your car cuz you have nothing else to do or pay for or worry about, on your car. At least, until someone steals the parking ticket off your car. And I thought I was a klepto.