A thorough check of my reliable sources (Facebook, Twitter, the secret webcams I have set up in some of my female friends bathrooms) seems to be telling me that "Carmageddon" seems to be a bit of a bust. Traffic appears to be moving at a regular pace. Local shops and eateries are appreciating the local business increase. Those bicycle-obsessed douchebags are even more annoying due to their near-orgazmic sense of elevated self-satisfaction. No giant fires. No severe sigalerts, no marauding hordes of goalie mask-wearing, fuel-hungry maniacs raping and pillaging. Nothing. Much like the Y2K bug, Carmageddon appears to be the world-breaking crisis that wasn't.
You know what, Los Angeles? You're welcome.
I take full credit for this would-be crisis being averted. When The Captain and I left town on Friday afternoon, all of your ailments left with us. Not just traffic-related ones, either. Broken bones at Cedar's Sinai were instantly mended. Babies on the west side were born fully potty-trained, clothed and literate, The lines at In "N' Out suddenly moved at non-glacier speeds. Everyone who has EVER driven down Sunset Blvd in an H2 has died of a rapidly (but not too rapidly) degenerative disease. Dodger games will be completely injury and fatality-free for the remainder of the season. Someone will notice and, for several moments, pay attention to the Angels. Brett Ratner has turned into a pillar of salt, making it safe for underage girls to stop people and ask for directions. Those guys who dress up in crappy character costumes on Hollywood Blvd will not be there to make all the tourists instantly think less of the city. You can get something delicious at Urth Cafe without wanting to kill the annoying people in front of you, behind you and next to you. All is right with the city. I gave you this. Me. Not the mayor, not the city planners, not the department of transportation, not Keanu Reeves, ME! By leaving town, the black cloud that follows me around like a wad of toilet paper stuck on my shoe has gone with me. I have single-handedly saved you all.
Don't believe me, go outside and have a look. It's beautiful.
Just stay away from the 405.
I'll also be leaving next year, when this happens again. See you during "Carmageddon II: Carpocalypse Now"
You know what, Los Angeles? You're welcome.
I take full credit for this would-be crisis being averted. When The Captain and I left town on Friday afternoon, all of your ailments left with us. Not just traffic-related ones, either. Broken bones at Cedar's Sinai were instantly mended. Babies on the west side were born fully potty-trained, clothed and literate, The lines at In "N' Out suddenly moved at non-glacier speeds. Everyone who has EVER driven down Sunset Blvd in an H2 has died of a rapidly (but not too rapidly) degenerative disease. Dodger games will be completely injury and fatality-free for the remainder of the season. Someone will notice and, for several moments, pay attention to the Angels. Brett Ratner has turned into a pillar of salt, making it safe for underage girls to stop people and ask for directions. Those guys who dress up in crappy character costumes on Hollywood Blvd will not be there to make all the tourists instantly think less of the city. You can get something delicious at Urth Cafe without wanting to kill the annoying people in front of you, behind you and next to you. All is right with the city. I gave you this. Me. Not the mayor, not the city planners, not the department of transportation, not Keanu Reeves, ME! By leaving town, the black cloud that follows me around like a wad of toilet paper stuck on my shoe has gone with me. I have single-handedly saved you all.
Don't believe me, go outside and have a look. It's beautiful.
Just stay away from the 405.
I'll also be leaving next year, when this happens again. See you during "Carmageddon II: Carpocalypse Now"
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