I had to smile because, as you can see, much to my great amusement and delight, there is actually an entire website devoted solely to asshole parkers appropriately entitled, youparklikeanasshole.com.

In the past I have been known to entertain an impure thought or two about people who park like assholes here in Los Angeles, and I usually am as considerate as possible when parking my car. Today, however, I guess I got a little reckless, and that was my bad.

And though I wish I could claim all the credit for my admittedly asshole parking, in the interest of fairness, I should give credit where credit is due. When I pulled into the parking lot of Joey’s, the entire lot was pretty much full, and I was running a few minutes late to meet Joe. Luckily, there was a woman leaving, who was occupying a space that was in reality two spaces. You see, there was a large BMW parked over the line on the right side, and a Toyota Forerunner parked over the line on the left side. Joey’s lot is really only designed for smaller cars, so sometimes these things happen.

Anyway, I had a choice: I could park in the two-space space, or I could circle the block for street parking. I chose the former. I even had a pang of guilt about it, but I didn’t want to keep Joe waiting. Then, of course, I got busted by the asshole parking enforcement team of West Hollywood, but I guess that’s the risk you take when you live on the parking edge.

Thanks for keeping our parking spaces safe, guys!

I’ve been many places around the world, but nowhere on earth, at least nowhere I’ve seen, is quite like West Hollywood. WeHo is a gay city, run and cared for by a gay community, and I love it here. It is a place that embraces individuality, diversity and self-expression. Where else can an accountant by the name of Daddy Don celebrate all that he is and run a thriving accounting business at the same time?

Side note: I have a number of friends who hand their taxes over to Daddy Don each year and totally swear by him.

But I digress. West Hollywood has, of course, developed a number of stereotypes. The most consistent of all being that all the men here are so perfect they are not only inaccessible and unattainable, but their entire motivation for being seems to be the maintenance of their perfectly tanned and toned physiques. The male versions of Pamela Anderson, as it were. But so what? Who cares? This is LA, after all, and I for one would rather be surrounded by pretty people. Does that make me shallow?

But seriously, WeHo is a place where so many young men, who grew up in small-minded families surrounded by small-minded towns, first get a chance to truly be themselves and live in a city that fully supports their endeavors to be all that they can be. In other words, seeing a drag queen walk down Santa Monica Boulevard at 1:30 on a Wednesday afternoon is about as remarkable as seeing Mickey Mouse at Disneyland.

And so, I will continue to be filled with a sense of giddy gratitude every time I walk down Santa Monica Boulevard and see that Gay Flag right next to The Stars and Stripes.