This is a Crime

I just washed my car this morning.

OK, I didn't exactly wash it. I went to the car wash. The point is, my car was freshly scrubbed, and looking good. Then I parked it and went in to work.

When I came out of my office eight hours later, I discovered that the automatic sprinklers near where I had parked had come on and sprinkled my car. My beautiful red car was covered with muddy waterspots. As you may be able to see from the picture (or not, now that I look at it), the spray from the sprinkler went all the way across the car to the street side. The spots show up nicely on the windshield, but let me assure you that the entire car was covered, front and back, left to right. Then the hot sun dried them out, and now I will have to go back to the carwash, or else wash it myself, the very next day.

This really pisses me off. Why do the sprinklers point out in the street? They must, because there was no wind today. The sprinklers were simply aimed at my car. I wonder if any water got on the grass.

I will admit that this is not as bad as being attacked by snakes, or having lunch with Dick Cheney. Maybe I should count my blessings. But, damnit, I spent time and money at the carwash, and then my paint got all fucked up, like, immediately.

OK. Sorry. In other news, my story called Promised Land has been moved to this location. I couldn't handle the pressure of trying to write right here in front of everybody. So it has it's own space now, where you can read it if you feel like it, and I get to work at the leisurely pace befitting a man of my age. I don't expect any readers to go there and make comments on it, but I have enabled comments just in case, so feel free. Getting it off this blog makes it easier for me to just write, and even go back and make changes, the way you'd do if you were writing a story, and not a blog. I will also add Promised Land to my blogroll in the sidebar. Don't get me wrong: I'm hoping someone will read it. I just won't come after you if you don't.