L.A. Noir: The Donut Man

“I was driving for a tow company in L.A. We had official police tow contracts for three cities and it was busy, with lots of freeway work. Towing stuff for cops, AAA stuff, and crashes. You know, the crashes can get gory as hell.”

“There was this one driver named Ralphie Bermudez. Ralphie liked crashes, gory ones. The gorier the better, stuff that nobody wanted to see. He loved that shit.”

“So he’d show up at just about every really splattery gross crash, but he’d stop on the way. And he’d get a dozen jelly donuts and bring them to the scene.”

“He’d walk up eating one, try to hand them out, kinda squeeze them at people. ‘Who wants a jelly donut? Jelly donuts for everyone!’ People would get grossed out, like, c’mon Ralphie. That’s not cool. He’d just keep chuckling.”

“Yeah, that was Ralphie. Jelly donut Ralphie.”

Shakedown cruise

Desert Road #5

Costa Mesa -> Riverside -> Indio -> Salton City -> Anza Borrego -> Julian -> Escondido -> Riverside -> Costa Mesa.

Temperatures up to 112 F, climb up a mountain at 90F, lots of twisty roads, 367 miles, 35 MPG.

Yeah, I think I’ll keep the Fiesta.

Vocabulary of the day, courtesy Bob

Whiskey Car (n). A car which has been operated by a heavy drinker for some time. A particular damage pattern identifies a Whiskey Car. There will be parking lot dents, small ones with a bit of paint from another car or a pole. A distinctive pattern of impacts will be seen on the top of the fenders or bumpers due to angry car-whacking, for example with a pool cue or a hand tool. The inside of the car will smell vaguely bad, similar to the tobacco and old alcohol aroma of its owner at the end of the evening. Any keyhole will be scratched from impaired attempts to get the key in.

The whiskey car is immediately identifiable by observant people who’ve spent time in bars.

Aaiiiieeee Bears!

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Aaiiiieeee Bears!, originally uploaded by conradh.

Ideally this van would disgorge actual bears on demand. However, it’s some kind of pre-failed service that brings mobile teddy bear parties to your location.

No, I don’t know either.

I keep forgetting to post this

Seen a while back while waiting on the freeway for roadside assistance: A large pickup truck, painted on the tailgate in huge letters with:

I’D RATHER BE CUMMIN THAN STROKIN

In or out of context this is a jarring thing to see on the road. I hereby provide context:

The owner of this truck owns a Dodge pickup which uses a Cummins brand diesel engine. He feels strongly that said brand of diesel engine is superior to Ford diesel engines, which are called “Powerstroke.”

I understand the intent of his message. Clearly he wants to indicate that his engine choice implies a sexual choice: he does not wish to masturbate, hence “strokin.”

However, the activities of “cummin” and “strokin” are not exclusive. Aficionados of masturbation will immediately object: Hey! We stroke in order to come! And then we’re cummin!”

Since I was stuck on the shoulder of Interstate 710 at Atlantic/Bandini at the time I didn’t have time to follow this gentleman and point out the contradiction inherent in his signage.

Perhaps he should have said: “I’d prefer to be cummin due to my conquest of a female human than strokin my own male member in order to achieve orgasm on my own, which is humiliating to me, and I feel the same way about my engine choice of Cummins Diesel over Powerstroke Diesel. It is the right choice for diesel engines without a doubt and gives me the same sense of control and desirability that mutually consensual coitus does over masturbatory activity.”

Or maybe he should of just gave the fuck up and not painted his truck with that sign.