ass you vee arse onist

welcome, my friends, to california, where assburgers are justification for all sorts of things.

even setting peoples' cars on fire.

children swimming in seal feces

Oh mommy! Mommy! Let's go! Let's go!!!

The city of gagillion dollar seaside homes is tired of spending money arguing with the spoiled parents of spoiled children about dangerous wildlife that has historically utilized the area's coastal regions for millions of years so they have made it legal for seals to poop in pools. I know it's confusing how having seals lawfully permitted to poop in a pool your child is using would make a lawsuit go away, and in all likelihood it will not, but the environmentalists are barking (seals bark you know) on one side and the poopaphobic parents are screaming gagillion dollar poop abatement plan on the other. I mean, what's a seaside resort community of entitlement and crass consumption to do?

+ =

The Bou' wants to know where to get those Prada seal bashing clubs!

you do realize you bought a home in a desert right?

California has a long history of stealing water from other places, but this fine story highlights a rather extra Californian water story:

Developer builds houses in the desert. People buy them. People then figure out they just bought a house in the desert and that in the desert there is no water.

Just desserts? The Bou' sure thinks so, but then again the Bou' always had problems spelling desert and dessert.

cars driven by vegetarians that smell like chicken

I shouldn't have to do anything other than shudder after writing that title, but I will instead paint a picture:

Highway 1, somewhere between Santa Cruz and Half Moon Bay.

There are clouds scattered across the sky that seem to float despite the firm, salty breeze that blows your organic wool knitted scarf as you gaze upon the pelicans and cormorants from your cliftop roadside perch.

You sigh as you think about how terrible it is that just a few hundred miles south of here there are oil derricks ruining the view of the channel islands. Form a moment you wonder if you should wait until the sun sets, but then you shiver and realize your almond milk latte may still be warm so you turn around and head back to your either 27 year old Mercedes 300 (pre-83, you note, because it's easier to run SVO with the older engines) or your 2002 Jetta TDI wagon with the custom veggie tank in the back.

You get in, take a sip (it IS still warm, thank goddess), turn the key to warm those little glow plugs, start her up and pull out onto the highway in a black cloud of chicken scented smoke.

As you pull away I can almost make out the "all who wander are not lost" bumper sticker from under the soot.