Park It Like It's Hot

So this past Wednesday morning I woke up and walked out to my car. My roommate and I have tandem parking in the building, which is a bitch, so I decided to park on the street whenever I found the chance, and for some reason, the night before, there was plenty of street parking in front of my building, so I took it as good fortune.
The next morning, however, I walked out to my car to find a parking ticket tucked under my windshield wiper. It was for 45 dollars. Yes, 45 motherfucking dollars for parking in front of my own apartment building. The only way I could get a 45 motherfucking dollar parking ticket in Virginia is if I parked in front of a fire station driveway, on top of a small child. What warranted such an incontinent penalty? I walked around and found a No Parking sign that did not apply save for the three hours of the week it stated there was Street Cleaning; Wednesday, 8am to 11am. Granted, I really woke up at noon and got to my car at 1pm, I still felt this to be entirely unfair. I don’t have a job. So how the fuck am I supposed to know what day of the week it is? Who the fuck do they think I am, Nicolaus Fucking Copernicus? It’s hard enough to find a styling wristwatch that has numbers along the face, and here I’m supposed to know what day of the week it is?
Damn was I one angry, unemployed Los Angelino. But I looked down the street and saw that I wasn’t the only car that was ticketed. This brought silent consolation. There were two or three other cars with similar tickets, and nothing perks you up more than seeing a parking ticket on another car. What fools they must be for trying to escape the all-seeing eye of Justice.

Things to check out:

I saw a girl perform this song tonight, and it stopped me cold. Check out a song called "Heaven" at http://jennialpert.com/sound_bytes.html.
You’d think that with a name like Jennial Pert, she would be friendly or something, but it’s really Jenni Alpert. She was still nice enough and all.