Halloween, Speeding Ticket, and NYE

I've been hanging out with Halloween for about 4 weeks now, and things are going so well that I really don't have much to write about. She's fun, hot, easy going, and a champ in bed. I'm pretty content.

My plans of going to Key West for a month sank due to two construction projects that were supposed to take place in December/January that have been moved to February/March. I was pretty bummed about this until last Friday when Uncle Charlie emailed me and said he was planning a NYE trip to St. Martin and asked if I wanted to join. All he told me was that he had a house picked out on the beach and that our buddy Chavez and two chicks were going (I know one of the girls, she's a lot of fun). I said sure and booked a flight the next morning. The house is expensive, but I have a ton of sky miles, so my flight to Puerto Rico is free, and we're taking Air Uncle Charlie from PR to Saint Martin. Should be a good time.

I've already ranted about how much I hate getting mail. Anything important like bank statements come to me via email, and my utilities and cell bill are on autopay, so the bulk of my house mail is credit card applications and other junk. Last night I received another reason to hate the mail in the form of a DC camera speeding ticket - 39mph in a 25mph zone; fine $125. Motherfucking DC.

I deserve the ticket and frankly am surprised I haven't gotten one sooner. But what really chaps my ass is where I got the ticket. The camera is located on the 1100 block of Bladensburg Rd in NE, which for those of you not familiar with the city, is probably the single most useless stretch of urban blight on the eastern seaboard of the United States. I firmly believe that everything and everyone on Bladensburg Rd from H Street to New York Avenue should be carpet bombed with incendiary rounds, bull dozed under, then bombed again to make sure nothing survived. It's three miles of pimps, addicts, and stores selling single cans of malt liquor. I'm probably the only person driving through that area whose license plate is actually registered to the vehicle it's on.

The city just re-did the entire road. They put in a fancy median with granite curbs, planted sod and trees in the middle, then repaved the whole road and put in about thirty crosswalks so the crack heads could cross the street to buy drugs without getting hit by the cars they are too stoned to see. I'm glad that I could help fund this rahab project that is benefiting so many law abiding, tax paying, citizens.

Believe, me, I would avoid the area like grim death if I could, but it's the fastest way to get in Route 50 from my house.

The city makes a killing on those cameras because it's nearly impossible to fight them. They have pictures of your car from three different angles and a close up of your plate, there's not much to argue. You're fucked. I thought it would be great to screw the city out of a whole day's worth of revenue from the camera by hiring a day laborer to stand at the camera with a "Slow Down! Speeding Camera Here!" sign.

When I get home tonight I'm going to take a steel wool pad to my license plate so I never get another one of these.