I know I always say BY THE WAY, but really. This time, there are no other words. We live in a darling neighborhood. I love it, but it's sometimes a thoroughfare for some, ahem, unsavory characters. And finally, the other day I was gutsy enough to document this fact for you, my lovely readers.
If you look closely enough, you'll see a very long pair of legs. These legs are wearing fishnet stockings. And yes, they are painted on the front of a minivan. Now I am not about to let some creep find this blog through a Google expedition for yuck-ville, so I will attempt to explain in code. Ahem.
There are certain "establishments" in our fair city, and in yours, no doubt, that tend to be open the opposite hours of a breakfast joint. With me? This "establishment" typically employs "very old, wrinkly, hairy women" to keep the company of other very old, wrinkly folk. Sometimes keeping company means the use of a large firepole. Got it?
So. Now that you now what I'm talking about, and now that we have avoided any creepy internet wanderers, I want you to know that this minivan is parked across from our driveway EVERY single morning. And it's not just this one, there's also a pink one. And every day, they back right into that garage door and unload who knows what. I CANNOT FATHOM. Dollar bills, perhaps? Dead bodies?
Either way, it creeps me out. And it also creeps me out that the man who usually drives up in these fishnet-painted minivans likes to walk his chihuahua down the alley all the live-long day.
Since it is the season of wonder, I invite you to share your own conspiracy theories about what in the world could be happening here. Just don't give us away--type in code.
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