Post Imperial Malaise.

 

So this morning I was given a choice. There were two seats on the bus this morning. Two possible seats. One enjoyed a panoramic vista of homeless passed-out ass. And I don't mean ass crack, or partial ass, I mean full on homeless pants down passed-out ass view. The other seat was in the articulated section which makes you imagine your own untimely and violent death being crushed to death by the wheels of the bus when the articulated section disconnects or some shit.

I chose to envisage my own passing rather than stare at homeless ass for a half an hour. It was a poor decision and I realized it almost immediately because the bus got so broke-ass full that someone would have been shielding me from the Gauguin still life of an ass in crisis. I outsmarted myself yet again.

The truly dizzying thing is that my job actually pays for parking which is very rare for Los Angeles so not only am I having these experiences, which one day I hope to compile into some sort of Metro Reference/Survival Guide I am actually paying for the pleasure. If I can't write this off my taxes then me and someone with an accounting degree are going to have serious words.

And on that note I checked and I already received my tax refund so yay for me.