Monday, November 5, 2007
Beware the Lincoln Park axe-murderer!
I am hereby filing formal notification of intention to become a homicidal maniac. It's not my fault, though: I blame one particular wingman of the squadron of ice cream trucks based at 629 Briggs Ave., Ontario.
The one currently parked in front of our house for a cig break.
The one that hasn't bothered to turn of his @#$%$%$¶§ music.
The one that decided today was a great day to run through his entire repertoire of Christmas music.
I'm going now to ask him to either turn off his music or move along, and if he doesn't comply, I'm going to strangle him with my bare hands, after I pummel him to death with my little gnocchi fists and ram popsicle sticks into his eardrums.
Forget bordellos on wheels (does anyone else think of For the Love of Ivy or is it just me?) -- the real menace is ice cream trucks parking on the streets of our neighborhood and increasing the murder rate!
And I'm only half-kidding, in case you're wondering.