While Santa was delivering gifts, I brought death.

My life. My fucking life.

You might think I make a lot of this shit up but no…it’s my life.

Was it that great Hispanic fag sage who uttered the wise words mi vida loca?

I think it was.
Well my vida is very loca, baby. I stumble upon a grand course of chaos each time I step out of my crumpled, smelly, cum-crusted bed.

Loca!!

Remember that post from Christmas night?
Specifically, the clip I showed of me squeezing by the land whale in order to withdraw money from the ATM for my son’s birthday card?

Note the time stamp. My dash cam has a few cool parameters, such as a time clock, a GPS positioning measure, a “car ID,” and speed. The only drawback with mine is that it is the SD version and resolution sucks, especially at night. The only reason this video is clear is because most 7-11 parking lots are lit up like Dodger Stadium. Once I coast into the darkness of a typical residential street at night, visibility turns to absolute shit on my dash cam.

But, I digress.

Immediately after the video above, I continued into the 7-11, made my ATM withdrawal, walked back to my car comfortably (because the fat-ass crew had left by then) and drove out of the parking lot, into a narrow, dark alley, and back to the residential street. My dash cam captures little because it sucks, but this is how it looked, sorta.

So, I pull out to the main street and your mind tends to de-focus at such times. Especially when you’ve been driving for 33 years. After driving so long, knowledge and experience become a drawback. They actually hamper performance. The experience is beneficial, but eventually, situations will arise in which your precious experience does not counteract the smug over-confidence. And if anyone is capable of smug confidence, it is I! I drove onto the street and I think I probably didn’t pay as much attention to my environment as I should have because 99,999 of these situations have proved harmless in the past. But in East L.A. people build their life around that 1/100,000. They do! Mexicans love to play the odds. Well, in this case, this little fucking fur ball paid the price. Everyone was standing on the sidewalk, popping their stupid car alarm, paying attention to everything and nothing at the same time, and of course the pooch was forgotten. The pooch ran back and forth but my overly-trained eye disregaded everything.

That little shit ran out in front of me once, I disregarded the input and next thing you know, it ran out again!

Wump.

I had my window open. I heard a squeal, a yelp. I thought I ran over a trash bag.

I looked in my mirror and saw a dog writhing in the street. People running to do whatever it is they do with dying animals.

I drove on. I was fucking late.

I had to take money out for a gift.

Lock your dogs up.

Fuck all you animal lovers.