Don't y'all worry none.
Momma ain't goan change her blog none.
I's gonna keep writin' jess like I always done.
Y'all can read it, or y'all can skim.
Momma knows all she gots to do is use them cuss words to get y'all a'readin.
Va-jah-na.
And may I take a brief second to wax poetic about the advantages to the paper-slip parking meters?
Dear Paper-slip Parking Meters that allow me to use a credit card:
I realize you're ripping me off, by charging me an extra quarter per hour for the luxury of using my debit card to pay for meters...and the paper on which you print my receipts.
But that's okay. Not having to carry change, oh, ever, is worth it.
Hell, I'd use my credit card in a Soda Machine. Wait. Would? Have.
But here's my idea:
We could keep the same system, BUT ALSO, we could be environmentally friendly, and institue a program, whereby, if we returned the receipts for recycling... we'd get a 25 cent credit - you recycle the slips and put them back in your machines, and we have a reason not to clutter Mt. Trashmore visible out my office window way out yonder up 826, with parking meter receipts.
Genius?
I know.
Miami -- when will you learn. You should elect me your king. After putting in a decent elevated train system, connected with light-rail trolleys, to form a vast transportation network free of the constraints of traffic, I would then retime all the lights in Miami, AND THEN, I would implement other reforms.
Oh, the places we'd go.
Vote me, King of Miami.
