On the way back from CVS, I realized my bike had a completely bent front wheel, bent sprocket, and bent handle bar. I'm also realizing how there was totally a witness and how I totally could have milked her for all that her rich BMW-giving father was worth. But sometimes you just really need cotton swabs, you know? So I picked up her license plate and yanked open her door. She says, "I - was about to pull over - to help you," then I said "Take this:," gave her the license plate, then said "Just... be a... fucking... better driver," and the shut her door and rode off to CVS, where I changed my shopping list to now include a six pack of beer (they sell alcohol at CVS in California).

So, now I'm sitting here drinking, trying to find a way to take my mind off that stupid fucking cunt. It's crazy, because I fuck with people that honk at me on my bike so bad, yet I let this girl get off with a few dents and scratches on her hood and a missing front plate.

P.S. I'm sober enough to realize that I'm drunk enough to have made this blog incredibly incomprehensible. Feel free to ask what the hell I'm talking about.

P.P.S. This was indeed a legit "I got hit by a car" situation. I had the little white man telling me to walk or "ride" through the crosswalk, she was looking behind her, I was hit at a good 20 miles per hour. I flew into the intersection, and my first concern was if I was about to be hit in the face by the bumper of a speeding car on an incredibly busy street in Los Angeles. Luckily, my panther reflexes in combination with my Kodiak muscles allowed me to resist maximum fall-damage and pop back to my feet. Just thought that needed clarification. For the record, I'm drunk. Thoughts? Tell me how you really feel.