Check Out The Junk in My Trunk


Back in 1995, I was an affable young man, newly minted with a driver’s license and terrorizing the quiet streets of Katonah, NY with my brand of cautious driving and leery lane changing. My vehicle of choice (or rather, the vehicle my parents let me drive) was a bright red Toyota Camry — one that I later took with me to college and then eventually to Los Angeles. Over that span of years, the Camry accumulated all sorts of charming mementos (aka trash), and when the poor car finally flunked out on a sweltering Van Nuys side street in 2006, I was faced with the daunting task of cleaning all the crap out.

Naturally, I shoved everything into a thin garbage bag and transferred it into the trunk of my shiny, new Camry — with the goal that I would go home that night and sift through the memories. Eight years later, I finally got around to it.

This is what I found.

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Vintage Car Spurs Gawking, Banter


This afternoon, I celebrated Los Angeles’s 227th birthday by engaging in one of the city’s unofficial traditions: car washing. Of course, I didn’t do it myself — I’m far too lazy/delicate for such an endeavor. Instead I brought my fair Toyota Camry to my usual spot on Spaulding and Melrose where nothing but a team of hardworking guys scrub the cars down by hand. No machines, no whirling rag-things, no robots. Just good old fashioned elbow grease. Because of this 100% hand-washed policy, this particular car wash attracts a high caliber of vehicles, which surely my Camry belongs to. I’m talking about Ferraris, Lamborghinis, Bentleys, and various other brands that are just a tad out of my price range. Today, however, a striking, electric-blue Lincoln Zephyr pulled up, and it was so eye-catching, I just had to take a picture.
Prior to doing so, however, I talked to the owner of the car, who told me all about his experiences as a car collector / enthusiast / restorer. It was pretty interesting, but the amount of upkeep in dealing with those vintage automobiles sounded entirely too overwhelming to me. I have a hard enough time keeping my Camry clean, let alone some whale from the ’40s. Nevertheless, the guy said his Zephyr was one of only forty-one in the entire world. I don’t remember what year the model was, but it was a surefire stunner — and this is coming from me, a guy who really doesn’t give two cow plops about cars. After the jump, one more pic of the car’s front grill, which the owner encouraged me to see. It was quite spectacular. I only wish I had taken more pics of the entire car. Oh well. I’m sure there’s a gallery somewhere online.

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Honk If You Love Leafy Greens!


In honor of last night’s Project Runway, which introduced America to the sassy yet demanding ways of drag queen Hedda Lettuce, I’ve decided to post this similarly bizarre ode to leafy greens: a license plate that says “I &hearts CHARD.” Now, I’m sure we all love Swiss chard as much as the next person, but going so far as to immortalize your adoration in license plate form truly represents a passion above and beyond what the casual kale or escarole enthusiast would be able to muster. I’ve truthfully never encountered someone with such a rabid obsession with chard, but hey, I’m not going to turn my nose up at it — even though it is bat-sh*t crazy. Everyone’s allowed to embrace the leafy green of their choice. In fact, I’d like to see more license plates boasting unfettered love for salad ingredients, if only to see how “dandelion greens” condenses down to an appropriate, DMV-approved length.

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YES! Sweet, Sweet Symmetry, pt. 2


Back in April, I brought you a death-defying picture of my odometer reaching 10101 miles. The binary symmetry was mind boggling. Well, now I have something even better: 11111 miles.
Luckily, I just so happened to have had a camera on me, and since I wasn’t on a highway like last time, I pulled over onto a residential street in Beverly Hills and snapped a photo safe and sound. I’m still riding the high.