Dude, Or Douchebag: Parking Jobs ’14
Truth is, I’m as guilty as the next guy. My car has mirrors, sensors, cameras–everything but a midget parking assistant in my glove box (although I did post the position on Craig’s List)– but even I often fail to park well. But I’d like to think that my occasional parking offenses don’t have much affect others. Not like this douchebag:
Sure, the white line overage is minimal, but this is Target on a Sunday, homie. The rest of us are wrangling our kids through a maze of strollers, side mirrors and moving cars, while you’re enjoying the freedom of two spaces? Not cool. Too bad you chose a spot next to the shopping cart enclosure, I predict some red plastic streak marks in your future.
And then there are the guy that commits a major douchebag offense, but it’s so bad that you actually pity his stupidity:
Um…really? The only saving grace is that this is clearly a rental car. Thus the poor fella is probably jet lagged, beaten down by the LA traffic and flabbergasted by our frightening roadways. So I actually pity the fool. But this guys’ getting no slack:
Honey, that’s a new Camaro. I know the concrete wall is scratchy and scary, but if you’re gonna rock a black American muscle car, you can’t park like a pussy. Come on now. Pussy parking is hardly the problem here:
Yup, she rolls right in and straddles that white line like a Kardashian on a first date. But I think that’s standard operating procedure for someone buys a car that’s designed by a handbag. You were a d-bag even before you parked.
Now if all of this pathetic parking has got your panties in a bundle, have no fear. Mama’s got just the remedy. The Motorhead Mama parking ticket is here:
If you live in LA and would like some, DM me on Twitter & we’ll send some your way! You’re welcome…