Speeding cop cars. Stress level high. Point and shoot photo therapy. PTSD. #hotpinkuniformreform
Jack-n-thebox. Two outlets to get to and back in the half hour I usually get for lunch. How high are the odds that I would've seen blaring siren cops speeding down Glendale Boulevard, just as I got this one I saw coming from a block away along Sunset Boulevard. Fun fun, said the gun.
I don't know if any of my readers saw my lj entry on July something or another, 2018, where I came within five minutes of a high pursuit. Don't think it got broadcast live via local media networks, but because it was the pursuit which ended in gunfire, killing an innocent woman working as manager for the local Trader Joe's… the cop's cam footage showed areas where the first gunshots started. I had been on the same street five–ten minutes earlier according to the time stamp on the cop cam, and my google maps GPS log. I wasn't affected by it. On my return home from picking up some frieeeeeeeed chickennnn at Dinah's, I saw the roadblocks. I didn't get all anxious about what went down that day until I did the math with the GPS logs and the time stamp on the official cop cam footage.
The perfect ending to yet another violent summer. Geez my summers suck! What is it with me? There's two types of people in this world, those who prefer summer time because they see themselves at the beach, splashing in swimming pools, tanning, volleyball, frisbee. Spring break! although that's not necessarily summer, but the party animal spirit is still there. And then there's the winter people, who enjoy a quiet evening drinking wine in front of the fire place, drinking hot cocoa in front of the fire place, cuddling with a blanket in front of the fire place.
I want to say I'm the winter guy because I want to bring up that I was once described as being like Linus, of Peanuts gang fame, and both of us have real issues with our hair. I don't mind the comparison. I liked Linus growing up reading Charlie Brown comic strips. I'll admit, summer isn't as much fun without having your buddies around, or at least a love interest. So I'll take the blame. These incredibly piercing headaches just has me that much more cautious when choosing my playmates. My last relation was a real doozy. Bitch thought she was doing me a favor acting all BDSM and throwing tantrums out of the blue while I'm behind the wheel driving.
I'd say she was a feminist.
I know it's illegal now in L.A. to be driving around taking photographs, but I digress. I was boxed in at the drive thru and therefore stationary in my car.