Metro-less

The gods of transit have smiled upon me.

The mail carrier delivered the coveted blue envelope today! Once I saw the return address and realized it wasn't the usual orange color I squealed because I knew my dream had finally come true. I have been offered a parking permit for fall quarter! I can finally tell metro and their omnipresent tvs to suck it. This may the only time that I get to squeal over getting the opportunity to pay almost 200 dollars for a permit. I must savor it. I must have passed the god's test of fire when I didn't lose it that one day. In less than half an hour I was pelted with Lucky Charms, or Chucky Larms as the hobo so eloquently put it, and asked by (another) hobo if I was a) a midget b) a maid and c) if I spoke English. My pleas must have reached Olympian heights. Praise the heavens!

What to do with all the time I won't be spending on the bus? Perhaps I'll utilize it to stalk, I mean hang out with, my new bestie James Franco. I mean, he has been asking me when I'll have time to admire his gorgeous hair. Soon, James, soon.

Well, I must leave off now and put my parking high to a better use. Suck it metro!