Poopy McPoopShoes


Unlike many southern California residents, I actually enjoy it when we get some rain around here. In fact, I’d like to vacation in Seattle sometime and just sit around, relax, and take in day after day of torrential storms.

Of course, I say that now.

Anyway, today we had a little bit of rain which meant that the drive to work was going to be a bit of a struggle since, as you may well know, people out here lose their fucking minds in the rain. It’s just one more obstacle to deal with when you’ve already got to drive while holding your latte and text, IDK, your BFF Jill. And even if you don’t fall into that category and actually spend time on the road driving (*raises hand*), the drive can still be a challenge.

At any rate, I was on the freeway when Ann called me* to let me know that she heard about an accident on the 405 southbound near the 55 and 73 interchanges. I’m glad she let me know—I listen to my iPod in the car and wouldn’t have known about this otherwise.

I already had my commute punched into my GPS as I always do just in case the freeway comes to a standstill and I need to take an alternate route. So after the call, I chose a route my GPS suggested and followed the green arrows.

It was nice taking another way to work and even better in the rain. I was really digging the drive and enjoying some cool tunes while passing some places I never knew existed.

While grooving to some of the aforementioned tunes, I had to pause for a moment. The song was still playing in the background but I wasn’t listening as something else caught my attention.

There was this…smell coming from somewhere inside the car. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it but yeah, it smelled pretty bad. I made the assumption that because it smelled so sour, maybe Anthony had left an empty milk carton in there somewhere after a Saturday morning doughnut run from a few weeks ago. That had to be it, right?

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