Let me begin by saying that I never park in a spot marked reserved for handicapped drivers (or sometimes passengers). My choice has nothing to do with the stiff fine and tow-away that can happen if you’re caught parking in such a spot without the proper plates or permit, because, let’s face it, unless you occupy such a spot for hours, you’re not likely to get caught. No, I don’t park there because parking in a space reserved for handicapped people is just a supremely shitty thing to do.

I once had an acquaintance who said, as we passed by the open handicapped-marked spots looking for a parking spot, “Why do they get all the good spots?” At the time, I thought he was kidding, but after knowing him for a while longer, I learned that he was a first-class shitheel and that he probably meant what he had said back then. Needless to say, if I saw him on fire today, I wouldn’t piss on him.

But I digress.

Our local 7-11 has six marked, regular parking spots and a seventh spot (the really wide one) marked for handicapped parking. As I was walking past the store this morning I saw an older lady zip into the parking lot in a car bearing “handicapped” plates. The “handicapped” spot was open as was the regular spot next to it. All the other spots were occupied. Rather than parking her car in the spot reserved for handicapped parking, she parked half her car in the handicapped spot and the other half of her car in a regular spot!!

She got out of the car and walked (just fine, thank you) into the store.

I concluded that the handicap the woman must suffer from is “Cannotparkworthashit”.

Either that or she was just an inconsiderate asshole who borrowed a handicapped person’s car.

Jersey – We produce world-class jerks.

I found “>this over at Denny’s place. Although my undergraduate major was not English (psychology was) and my graduate degree (before law school) was in psychobiology, these results reminded me of the time when I was a freshman in high school and had taken a battery of apptitude tests. Miss Tate, my counselor, said “Jim, you can be anything you want to be, … except an engineer”. I don’t know that I could have been anything I wanted, but she was sure as hell right about the engineering thing.

I still can’t mentally fold those damned boxes, and calculus made my hair scream with pain, damned near gave me an ulcer, and buckled my knees..