Sex Advice Column

Illustration by Bob AulThis afternoon I parked my car on a Laguna side street, about a foot and a half back from where a driveway broke the curb, with plenty of room behind me. When I came back to my car, I found a Wells Fargo deposit envelope under my windshield wiper with the following message written on it: “Pull up or back but DON'T EVER take up two parking spots around here again!!!”

Now, I don't think anyone reading this needs to be told what an obvious pussy you are to have taken the time to find another parking space, find a pen and some paper, and write a note like this. My first instinct was to look for your car, enclose a spoon in the envelope, and put it on your windshield with instructions to eat my ass. But what really bears pointing out is that, after living in Orange County for three years, getting an empty, asinine threat for no obvious reason was completely unsurprising. After all, if there were no empty, emasculated posturing in OC, there'd be no posturing at all here. One week from now my life will shift 3,000 miles eastward (and, presumably 30,000 years forward in evolution), so I don't have much time to sum up my feelings toward this county and all the spoiled, steroid-addled cocksuckers that live here, but here goes: Go to the mall, then go fuck yourselves.

Send anonymous thanks, confessions or accusations —changing or deleting the names of the guilty and innocent—to “Hey, You!” c/o OC Weekly, P.O. Box 10788, Costa Mesa, CA 92627-0247, or e-mail us at le*****@oc******.com.">le*****@oc******.com.

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