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I took my truck to get a gas station car wash (read: lazy-style) today, but I had to traverse the entire frickin island to find one. My truck was covered in a braille of bird crap, and I wanted it off. So I payed my $4, and went into it. BRUSHLESS! Fi! I now have a layer of spray-wax covering my bird-crap.

So then, I thought it an awfully good time to buy a hand cannon. I drove into a pawn shop and looked at a couple, and went to buy a Ruger .357 - began filling out the paperwork, when I'm informed that it's illegal to sell a handgun to me because I have a Louisiana drivers license. This seedy-looking joe across the counter pawning something immediately looks up at me and says, 'hey, I can get you a pistol no problem, just come over to 17th and Broadway', and winks at me. So I go home, get my food outta the fridge (last night I cooked up some jambalaya, collard greens, and hot-water cornbread!!), and veg.