What
da Hell! I’m from Georgia and am used to hearing this exclamation. It’s
something the country boy next door might say when he discovers his Pit Bull
has been impregnated by the neighbors Chihuahua. Just try to shake that image,
I dare ya. He might also utter such a statement after catching his favorite
girl in a compromising situation with his cousin Earl’s brother’s daddy. Maybe
after killing a deer and finding it has a tattoo?
In
rural Georgia misappropriation of funds means, the only store open near the
fishing hole at five a.m. is out of Budweiser and you must spend your last cash
on Schlitz or Pabst Blue Ribbon. Wait, wait, wait, your last cash always goes
for Vienna sausages. What da Hell?
These
are not the words you expect to hear from the mayor of Miami when surplus city
vehicles are brought up during an interview.
Turns
out the City had up to 1200 surplus vehicles stored in a parking garage
downtown since 2006. The number, as they often are in such situations, is unclear,
but it appears it has now dwindled to 157. I wonder does this number now imply
a shortage of surplus.
“Sir,
are you aware that the city has 157 surplus vehicles, most of them Priuses,
stored in a parking garage downtown?”
“What
da Hell?
Hold
it, try to say Priuses three times. The Prius boasts 50 m.p.g., but apparently
that is not good enough for the city of Miami. Their Prius’s mileage may, in
fact, be infinite. Somewhere in the city of Miami there is a magical place
where Priuses live in the lap of luxury. Every two months their batteries are
reconnected. They are then driven around to make them feel better. After a wash
and a little petting, the batteries are disconnected, and they are once again placed
in Cryogenic Suspension.
The
city claims there are no long term side effects to their inactivity, but as the
aged population in South Florida will attest, if you don’t use it, you lose it.
Of course, they will attest to this with a Michigan or New Jersey accent. I
love it when this happens, but the last time I checked Detroit was not in
Florida. I’m moving down to Miami next week. I’m not sure I’ll fit in seeing as
I have a Georgia accent, but I’ll try.
How
do I get a job, petting Priuses for the city? It has to be a gravy job. All one
need do is show up for work each day and convincingly say, What da Hell, while
drinking coffee. Being named Forrest Gump might help too. I’m his cousin’s
brother’s uncle twice removed. Does that count, wait no one said anything about
counting? I’m out.
I
have already learned many things about Miami and I look forward to making fun
of them. I know there are at least 157 little annoying Scooter driving, Vegans
who could be driving a Prius. What da Hell?
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