Dead Squirrel

I saw a dead squirrel today.

I knew it was dead because its guts were splattered around the tire-track-flat body lying on Ogden Dr. 

I was moving my car three blocks to avoid a seventy five dollar street sweeping ticket.

I competed, death eyed, and snarky slight smiled the other desperate Angelinos as we passive aggressively prayed the other would blow up in a combustion of flames over avoiding another ticket. 

I think that’s Los Angeles though.

I think Los Angeles does it to pin each other up against each other in the name of good sport.

I think Los Angeles gets off on petty competition over small fines and over priced eggs white omletes.

I think Los Angeles orgasms off vegan protien powders and going to a Kelly Wearstler designed hotel lobbies for instagram likes just to prove they are someone who deserves a parking spot during street sweeping.

I think Los Angeles impregnates the feeble minded with the seed of success and getting your genitals of choice sucked off by an over hyped tequila company loving George Clooney like character. 

Maybe if I payed the seventy five dollar ticket, they would have remembered to clean the dead squirrel off the road.