Sunday

Can I send a big

FUCK YOU

to the piece of shit who rammed into my car while it was parked and I was enjoying BBQd meats. I know exactly what happened by the evidence you don't have to have ever watched CSI to figure it out. Some moron with an SUV or truck that has a trailer hitch which has never been used, in all of its owners extreme adventures to Roosevelt Field Mall, was backing up and slammed into the grill of my car, practically slicing into two. Another theory is that it is a young female driver, this bias passed on from my two bosses (who are both women).

Common courtesy would dictate that if I do major damage to a car, while backing out, and the driver is not around I leave a note. Even an in-sincere apology. But nothing. I know my car is a little crappy, but it gets me from point A to point B, it doesn't deserve this kind of crap. So if you, the reckless driver on 66th ave, want to confess use the email button on the left. But otherwise I'm looking for you. I know what I'm looking for, I know what color paint you left behind. I know what color paint you took from me.

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