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New York City jokes: The New York City police towed my car away just because I can't read


The Cops Towed my Car Away

by HogWild

Over the weekend the NYPD towed my car away. Bulltish! It wasn’t even my fault. The only reason they towed it was because I hate reading.

I don’t mind reading a sentence here – or there – or even a brief paragraph. But this f%^#in’ sign was like a calculus textbook. Full of numbers – and words. I don’t have that kind of patience! Or math background!

This was on a Saturday night. The sign said:

NO Parking 7am-7pm M-F

1 Hour parking 8am-9pm including Sunday

“NO Standing 6am-7pm excluding Sunday

“NO Parking 9am-10pm including Sunday, leapday and Christian holidays

“NO Parking: Snow Emergency Lane

Night Regulation: No Parking 11pm-6am”

AHA! Dammit! I should have remembered this from English class in High School. If you’re not gonna read the entire book – at least read the ending! I got busted because I didn’t get to the ending.

 “Officer, I was GONNA read the whole sign. Look, I had my bookmark on page 12!”

What the hell is the point of that parking regulation? What’s happening on Saturday night from 11pm to 6am that’s so important that I can’t park there?

It’s certainly not garbage pick-up. Street sweeping? Yeah, it’s real important for those Zamboni trucks to blow the filth around.

I lost the parking game, but at least I got parting gifts. A 106 unit ticket and 185 bacon bits for the towing fee.

And at the pound those people are niZasty! THEY ARE MEAN! After waiting in line for 2 hours, the b!tch at the counter growled at me. She actually growled. Then she lifted her leg and urinated – just to show me this is HER territory.

They should be nice to you. Console you. Damn it, I mean I just got soaked for all that cash, that’s the least they can do. A big bosomed nurse should hug you. “It’ll be okay. It’s okay. Put your face right here. Now give me all your money.”

This ho’s-bag at the counter must get a commission on every car towed because she was rich! 7 gold bracelets on her left arm. 8 on her right. A ring on EVERY finger. 2 on the thumb. Gold earrings the size of the Liberty Bell. 13 gold chains – and she’s missing a front tooth. BIIIIIIIIIIITCH?!! What’s wrong with you? Melt down some of that jewelry and fill in the pot holes in your smile.

But this b!tch was a poodle compared to the bull dog dyke supervisor.

This fat snatch-face had a cross-eye and a moustache and DARED to be a tease. I couldn’t get my car because the registration had lapsed. She SHOULD have said, “Look kid. The only way you’re getting your car back is if you surrender your license plates or your @n@l virginity." Easy choice. Because going to the DMV for new plates – now THAT’S a pain in the @ss!

But she spoke softly and looked at me with that one bull dog eye like if I said the right things, she’d make an exception.

I was ready to say or do ANYTHING. PLEASE GOD! I MADE A MISTAKE! JUST GIMME MY CAR BACK!! What can I say?

“I’m sorry.”

She rolled her one good eye and the other kind of drooped there swinging in its sling.

Instead of handing me back my paperwork and leaving, she kept looking at it – and then at me as if she was sizing up my sincerity.

If it would’ve helped, I’d have banged that beast for my car back. Just let me get a bottle of Absolut and a razor – for her face and my wrists should I accidentally open my eyes.

But she wasn’t gonna give me my car back. And she knew it. She was just dragging it out. I was like, “Hey rectum-face, send me a postcard will ya? Write me all about your power-trip.”

Now I know why they have those bullet-proof partitions. Because yo, I swear I slid my hand through the paper slot at the bottom and if I had one wish on Earth it would have been to turn into Plastic Man so I could reach up with my super-long plastic arm and choke the tish out of this b!tch!

I was very angry. Now I’ve relaxed. But I swear on my dead hamster’s grave I will exact my ruthless revenge. I will hop on the Ugly Bus to Ugly Town and spit on her ugly kids and slap her ugly husband in his face with a straw broom. Then I will unleash 100 well-fed pigeons into her home and nail the windows and doors shut.

Aaaah. Now I feel a little bit better. Just a little.

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