Broken radio is the worse thing that could happen on your way to school, the damn thing wouldn't even turn back on, I could have entertained myself by doing my own renditions of awesomely bad 80's songs but I instead just drove silently as random thoughts about the road took control. Upon trying to enter the on ramp to my freeway I found that I was by myself and about to enter the carpool lane but I couldn't get over because all the cars in the regular were stopped and I would have to stop in the carpool lane to do it, why hold up angry LA people, so I cruised down the carpool lane hoping no cops were waiting at the interchange. After barely escaping that I sat in traffic for all of 10 minutes (Might be a new record) and I ended up behind an old Jaguar coupe that had a very interesting license plate: BEWARE OF JAGULARS! The first thought that rolled through my head was how fucking corny that is, and how egotistical the schmuck driving the jaguar must be to believe that car jackers are itching to get the next jaguar. Maybe I saw it as a metaphor for how elitist we Americans can be or the effects of having no radio was getting to me. Then again is wasn't as cool as the license plate of a car at my little brothers school: MY OTHER RIDE IS YOUR HUSBAND. Now that is something completely different. Or maybe it is just the honest to god truth.
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