Suburbs or I get to live in the next Ghetto, or welcome to the PalmGhetto 2. Sequels always suck.

I jog out to the mailbox early this afternoon. I am worried. I hope the DVD's I rented are here. I think NetFlix figured out that I am a "heavy user." I sent the videos I watched out in the mail 3 days ago, and their customer service claims to have not received them yet. It may have something to do with president day, or whatever national holiday it is. I don't have to keep track of national holidays, because the neighborhood association I live in hands out free American flags on patriotic holidays.



I hate america like I hate our flag. I usually never have to see any of the flags my neighborhood watch drops off because they pick them back up again around 5pm. That's about the normal time I pull myself out of bed.



I've had the last two days off from work and I figured since I was up early, and I had nothing in the mailbox, I would go ahead and clean up all the trash that's been collecting in my roommates front yard.



My roommate enjoys owning his house, but he doesn't think upkeep is part of the bargain. He's not alone in slumming up the suburbs. The Atlantic Magazine is telling all its readers that the suburbs are the new Ghetto. I want to slow down the decline, that's why I was out in the 70 degree heat collecting litter and spraying gray spray paint on his fence to cover up the graffiti that was left by some random gang banger. It was probably the same random french gang banger that broke the window of my car last year, and at least 20 other cars since then in this subdivision.



After I was done being a good roommate I decided I needed to eat and buy some soda. I rode the bike over to Rally's (they call it Checker's in Palmetto) for a burger. They offer 99 cent 12 ounce shakes. Just the right size to not make you feel like a fat ass who wears crusted Pac man t-shirts and sits in his underwear blogging all day.



At the Rally's I see 4 cute Mexican teen girls. The cutest one blurts out how she wants to get pregnant so she can rest her soft drinks on her belly. She tells the other teens that she can't wait to get pregnant. They remind her that she will have to wait until she goes on her mission. So the teen wanna be pregnant mexican is a mormon. You don't see that everyday. I grab two hamburgers and shake and bike off to Circle K. I buy a 2 liter of RC. Circle K has raised the price from 99 cents to $1.19. What a rip off. As I leave the store a drunk homeless woman asks me for quarters. She explains that she needs a beer.



I ride off a few nickels short and watch a woman at a nearby bus stop cry. I have no idea why she is crying, maybe she hates waiting for the bus. At least it's not raining. At least she didn't leave her keys at work and have to ride all the way back at midnight to retrieve her keys in the rain. And at least it did not rain on her all the way back home. When she got home she didn't have to throw her work clothes in the washing machine. Did she watch the Suns lose on TIVO? Even though they now have Shaq. Was she crying because she was so disappointed with her blogging efforts for a sequel to the awesome PalmGhetto post? I don't think she should cry. Sequels never work.