Street Dreamz are Made of These

First of all, this rules:

Thank you to my friend Kevin for taking this picture in his office parking lot. Please note: I am not making fun of Selena, unless if by Selena you mean the movie starring Jennifer Lopez/J. Lo/Jenny from the Block. I am always amused by car "art," and I am usually a little confused/intrigued by people who choose it as a means to memorialize others.

Seth and I saw a bright, glittery purple lowrider truck at the mall the other day, all decked out with chrome this and that. Across the windshield, it said "Street Dreamz." And dammit -- we didn't have a camera with us. You see, my friend Brandon was a member of a Street Dreams (less cool spelling) club in high school. He was the vice president or something (you can see what a hard-core gang this was, with its elected officers and all). When he told us this, Seth and I thought we should revive Street Dreams/Dreamz, and we should have names that related to our car. Or something. Seth drives a Pathfinder, which he sometimes calls the Assfinder. Jokingly. I suggested we change the spelling to be more in flava with the Street Dreamz, thus, AssFynda. Seeing the real-life Street Dreamz ride just blew us away. But I digress.

Oh, and one time I saw an old, beat-down Ford Festiva with the words "Sweet Honesty" across the windshield. I'm pretty sure this did not refer to the old-school Avon perfume, which for some reason seems to relate nicely to yesterday's Mule Day entry, but again, I digress.

These cars, plus several indescribable things we saw at Mule Day, convinced us that we need to start carrying cameras in our cars at all times.


My friends' baby, Jackson, is precious. He basically just slept the whole time I was at the hospital, but that was cool. I am so not ready for giving birth, raising kids, any of that. We don't even have enough time or responsibility to take care of a freaking dog right now (although I would like a pug, a chihuahua, and a retired greyhound, and I have names picked out for all of them), so I'm glad that my friends are having babies to (1) remind me of how totally not ready I am and (2) let me still get to play with precious little peanut-muffins like Jackson.


emiloo at 9:50 a.m.