I saw the scariest man in Costa Mesa today at the Borders in the magazine section. He was a fortyish surfer/skater type covered in tattoos, including most of his head and face. Most notably he had a large red and black swastika on his skull with some writing in German around it. He was not attempting to conceal this at all. Eep. His rockabilly woman was somewhat tatted up too but not like him. I swear his entire head was illustrated with malevolent shit. I wanted to see it more in detail but I was afraid of looking at him too long.
I get to take the car in tomorrow because the “check engine” light is on. I foresee a delightful day of waiting around, not being called, calling them, and them trying to screw me on the warranty so I pay for the service somehow. Hurf.
I have a stomach ache, I’m broke, and it’s perilously close to Big 5 Time.