Saw a Darwin Award contestant today

I've got a better one...

One year while visiting the Phoenix area there was a news report of a fire at a gas station. It turns out that some idiot was pumping gas and found that the clip to hold the handle in the on position was broken. His solution...stick his Bic lighter in there to hold it for him. The lighter slipped causing sparks and igniting the car, the station, etc. Unfortuntely this Darwin award candidate escaped uninjured.

 

After the big one in 1994, I was at a gas station when the first big aftershock hit. There was some idiot smoking a cigarette. I yelled at him to put it out. He shook his head no and flipped me off. I walked over to him, took it out of his mouth and stamped it out while saying, "DO I NEED TO TELL YOU NOT TO SMOKE A FVCKING CIGARETTE IN A GAS STATION DURING AN EARTHQUAKE?"

DL

 

only in the "310"

 

818...AM/PM in Encino!

DL

 

They must have been visiting from the "310" to get their Saab fixed.

 

The local paper way, way up there must have run out of ink in the 90's!

DL

 

Right.....It's Volvo's now.

What was I thinking. With all the "310" maven's rolling around in the uber-SUV's, safety first.

Plus the leather clown shoe's that are so in fashion don't scuff the fine Volvo plastic.

 

Sorry, I forgot. The Santa Ana winds blew the signals the other way. No more Volvos either!

DL

 

I was hangin' at the Red Rooster in Brewster a few years ago, when some bozo pulled his car into the gas station across the street, right up to the pump area covered by an overhang. There was only one small problem when he pulled in: his car was already on fire, belching flames from under the hood. Seconds later, the halon system, or whatever it's called, let loose, and the entire area disappeared in a thick cloud of white powder. I finished my hot dog and drove off.

 

Is that place as funny as it sounds?

DL

 

It's an icon, like some of the hot dog stands you have in LA. It's a true, vintage, hamburger/malt/hot dog stand, no real dining area inside, picnic tables, coin operated kid's rides and mini-golf outside. Next door is a ****-hole motel from the 50's called the "Bel-Air."
Once suggested to my wife that we sell all our ****, move up there- we can eat at the Rooster, have parties at the mini-golf course, and if anybody asks, we can always say "We live in Bel-Air."
Here's a pic:
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