Yeah, yeah, yeah... I know I said I'd write something everyday. I know I said it was a healthy habit. And I know I said it was going to be different this time, that I was actually gonna do it. And I have. But just a little. Every day. And always several different posts. Soon, I'll get around to actually posting these things; there are a few.
I've just been busy, okay?! Seriously, I've been trying to ensure that my life gets together once and for all. I've been focusing mainly on redecorating (which implies that I had decorated once in the first place, which is a blatant lie... so then, decorating?) my apartment, which up until recently had no furniture. I now have a couch, a tv stand, and this totally amazing, incredible, best-sleep-I've-ever-had mattress.
Seriously. It's that amazing. Everyone should have one of these things. Go here.
I have also declared war on the roaches in my apartment. Yeah, you read that right. Roaches. In my apartment. In my kitchen, actually, which I am kind of afraid to admit, because I can't decide if it makes me sound filthy or like a redneck or worse, like a filthy redneck. But you have to understand, this is Los Angeles. And we got us some roaches, okay? Like Hawaii. A lot of people wouldn't think so, seeing as it's Hawaii and the only thing they're supposed to have is dolphins and an infestation of white silver-spooner trust-fund-baby college kids and tourists. But they've got roaches. Big ones.
The guy at CVS who was standing in line behind me yesterday as I was purchasing my roach-eliminating WMD's (Raid and a pack of roach motels) was kind enough to note my purchase and very audibly comment about it. "She's gonna go home and declare war on those motherf*ckers," he said to his friend as he stood there with a 12-pack of Bud Light slung awkwardly over his shoulder. At that point in the day, I had neither slept nor eaten much, and I had spent the majority of the day preparing for a visit from my mother, so needless to say I was a little punch drunk. I gathered every last ounce of enthusiasm and sarcasm (enthusiasm's obnoxious kid sister) I could muster and said, "Oh yeah, dude. It's on."
The hilarity continued with his incessant questioning that most likely stemmed from the teenage crush he had developed on me in the 2.7 minutes we were standing in the checkout line, as well as the fact that he was a degenerate-creep-loser who had no confidence or care in his general appearance and/or hygiene and had consequently made a career of trolling for booty with his equally creepy little friend. "It's this heat wave too, it just made them come outta nowhere."
"Well, yeah," I said, and in venting some well-justified frustration about the whole ordeal, continued, "but these guys came with my refrigerator."
"Oh, you got a used fridge, did you?"
"Uh-huh."
"Well, that's why you go to Home Depot and spend the $300 on a brand new one," he said. That self-righteous dirty-hippie sonofabitch.
"Hey man," I retorted, "I don't have that kinda scratch. I work for a living (you bastard, I thought to myself)."
Clearly realizing his mistake, in an effort to gain back the points he thought he lost but in actuality never had to begin with, he began to backpedal, saying things like "oh yeah, I know what you mean... many a trip I have taken to Joe's Midnight Refrigerator emporium... blah blah blah..." And I was never so grateful as I was when the cashier finally called me up to the counter to ring up my purchase and let me get on with the rest of my day so I could go home and kill some bugs.
Anyway...
The title of this post, in other news, actually stems from a conversation I had with an friend of mine at work. We were talking about something, I don't even recall what it was, and she mentioned a weird law that applied to the state of New York. Apparently, in NYC, it is legal for a woman to walk down the street topless, in broad daylight, unless she is smoking a cigarette, in which case it becomes phallic and sexual and is then cause for arrest.
Really? This seems absurd to me. I decided to do a little research. It seems that the truth in such statements, especially as ridiculous and impossible as this one sounds, is garbled and lost in translation as though being repeated over and over through a monstrous game of Telephone. But there is some truth to it: "Women may go topless in public, providing it is not being used as a business." Okay, fine. That's still dumb. I'm not saying it's impractical; it's just kinda silly. Other such totally inane New York laws include such classics as "It is illegal to throw a ball at someone's head for fun," and "The penalty for jumping off a building is death." Just think about that last one. Just for a second.
But New York isn't the only place that has weird and/or totally irrelevant laws that somehow are still in the books, yet cannot possibly be enforced. Colorado, for example, has a law in the city of Aspen which states that "Catapults may not be fired at buildings." In Boulder, it is illegal to "permit one's llama from grazing on city property" - actually, that one might still be enforced. Just sayin'. Oh, and in Sterling, "cats may not run loose without having been fit with a taillight."
Naturally, if such things are set in stone in other parts of the country, I grew curious as to what I could or could not get away with in my own fair city. The bizarre laws in the state of California are innumerable, of course, but one exists in my own backyard that just takes the cake. And I quote:
"In Hollywood, it is illegal to drive more than two-thousand sheep down Hollywood Boulevard at one time."
What. The. Hell.
** Bored? Look for more weird laws in your town at http://www.dumblaws.com. Thanks for reading!
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