Death To the New Parking Meters

(Warning, profanity) Fucking fuck! Fuck!

Must. Punch.
Must. Punch.

I don’t have a car, and seldom do I drive, however some friends are in Austin this week so they bequeathed me a homely yet friendly navy blue early ‘90s Saturn named Monty. It’s be nice being able to go on leisurely, solitary excursions around town ... but holy fucking fuck, driving sucks. More specifically, parking sucks. Especially when those newfangled automated fuckers won’t take crisp new dollar bills. Thank you, CABQ, for making me your bitch today. Fuck!