Back in November, I took this shot while westbound on the 101 and found I had captured another wonderful sunset caused mostly by the 'pollution' the EPA wants to rid from our Arizona skies.

My son spotted this schizo (yellow dot) whose jerky string puppet-like movements indicated he was under distress and in need of immediate care or hospitalization. As our social services re-route more and more of their resources (our tax dollars) to able-bodied, functioning adults (and millions of illegal aliens) we will witness evermore of those truly needing help wandering the streets and populating our prisons.

The Sunday after Thanksgiving I watched fifteen of these private jets lift off from Scottsdale Airpark. Only in America.

As I left for work Sunday I saw this guy riding his miniature pocket rocket up and down the street. Hard to find a funnier sight.

The red Spectrum driver was all upset because I turned left onto Cave Creek Road before he could enter the intersection and turn right. So, the Jackass just had to pass me. Now, see the motorcycle in the center lane? Well, the rider also had the gall to turn onto Cave Creek in front of the Speculum driver, however, he had the horsepower to keep ahead of this pinhead.

I heard these two guys coming from a long way away. Not sure what they were doing. The inset photo is some sort of AH64 helicopter painted sky blue. The picture is so poor because they were aiming their video scrambling weapon at me.

Yet another accident on Greenway Parkway. This one at Tatum Boulevard and Greenway on Monday, November 9th, 2009

Here's the price as of November 22, 2009 of gasoline in Phoenix, Arizona, USA

Wednesday, driving Mr.Wonderful III home from his retail job at a discount business, where during the recession of 2007-2012 merchandise is flying off the shelves, we saw this Arizona Highway Patrol truck helping a driver with his, or her, mechanical troubles. As I've stated before, I believe this highly visible public service is one reason many of us encounter our Arizona Highway Patrol (State Police) with less fear in our hearts than we do our municipal police.

Mirage Auto Sales, a literally fly-by-night used car dealer, has flown. However, the other day I think I saw one of their 'Mirage-Mobiles' drive by.

Back on the first Tuesday in November I spotted this accident aftermath on the northeast corner of Cave Creek Road and Union Hills. I imagine the individuals on the fence are waiting for La Migras to pick them up and cart them off jail.

Can you see the light-gray exhaust plume coming out of the tailpipe of this white Ford Crown Victoria driven by a Food City customer? Many vehicles driven by Food City customers do not meet any emission requirements, but you cannot physically see how they are polluting our Arizona skies. I'd guess that this particular POS is pumping out enough garbage to negate the 'non-pollution' of around 100 Toyota Prius.

(For those of you not in Arizona, the only people who shop at Food City speak one language and it isn't English.)

Here we see one of those green Prius Discount Taxis that no one hopes they'll get picked up by, for they enjoy the comforts of Escalades and Tahoes.

Greenway Parkway never lets me down for witnessing morons driving like idiots. These two winners were flying down the parkway at 55 or 60mph like they could actually beat the traffic lights timed for only 45. To prove they are real hot-shots, the co-pilot must hang his arm out the window.

Greenway Parkway never lets me down for having accidents to photograph, this one from Friday, November 6th, at 11:07pm.

I saw this "420" scratched on my mirror in the hovel apartments I live in. Sure it was the graffiti of a killer gang from Guadalupe, Surprise, or possibly Mars, I prepared to write about it.

This Piaggio Avanti is a rare sight. My Jane's airplane book states there were only 120 manufactured. You can hear this aircraft coming quite a ways off. My pocket camera is too small to get a decent photo, so I've included a photo I borrowed from the AirSpace web page.

On my way to the closest Bank of America branch Wednesday evening

I keep telling everyone that I live in an especially dangerous neighborhood. I think this is proof of that in triplet.

When is the last time you've had three Mormon missionaries come to your door? I will bet you one is fluent in border-Spanish.

I received this message the other day. The first thing I did was to check my two credit cards and neither of them had these numbers. The next day I phoned the 877-539-1561 and found the number was not working. Plus I have no idea what "CU West" is. Must have been some kind of scam.

Still want to move to The Valley of the Sun, Hotshot?

Every afternoon and every evening I putt down Greenway Parkway at exactly 4mph over the 40 or 45 mile per hour speed limit (64kph) because I know, and rightly so, that Phoenix cops will ticket at only 5mph over the posted limit.

So Saturday night at around 11:15pm on my way home, I heard these two racing before I saw them. Being the traffic signals are timed, I knew it wouldn't be long until I caught up with them. What was surprising was how loud they were, and how slow they were.

I simply just haven't been seeing that many things of interest lately.

However, I still appear to be of interest of the paparazzi's at ABC-15, as their helicopter overflies my gatehouse several times each day. For all I know, I may be on a reality show starring me. And you all know  how much I would hate that.

As those of you who know Mr.Wonderful also know that I raced off-road motorcycles for 21 years.

Apparently the motorcycle rider in the photo is more concerned with protecting his rear axle than his head, and, if he voted for Obama, this is a good thing.

The other day, this dork on a three-wheeled motorcycle went screaming by us. I guess they are approved for use by waterheads. I especially loved the 1935 Indianapolis 500 helmet.

I've been working between 8am and 1pm moving for the past three weeks, pretty much rushing from my apartment to the office, then back home again to sleep, and to then wake up at 8am and start packing again and transporting boxes to my new location while emptying and cleaning up my old abode.

So as I was eating my homemade ham and cheese the other day at the shack, I kept ending up with a wad of paper in my mouth. After the second spit-wad, I pried open the sandwich and saw that I'd forgotten to pull out the paper that was between the pieces of my real cheese before I included it.

I'd heard about the new Dunkin' Donuts on the corner of 32nd Street & Cactus Road in Phoenix, Arizona, I'd just not been able to pick it out of the crowd until they put the huge coffee cup on the roof. But someone else beat me to it. I wonder if they used lights and siren?

Someone over at my Tatum & Shea Boulevard Albertson's is confused on so many levels. And no, I did not move the sign. My reality is actual reality, especially after nine or so Heinekens.

Another car crash on Greenway. It's no wonder the Phoenix police ticket people for going five miles per hour over the 45/40mph speed limit.

A rare half-a-rainbow came out the other day.

Yah dumb-phucks. What will it take for you loonies to slow down, not tailgate, and pay attention? Does your life have to be forever altered, or even ended (or rear-ended) before you drive like you have a brain in your head?

Here we have a three-vehicle pileup. Morons.

Driving west on Cactus Road around 30th Street, I saw the aftermath of this accident on Saturday, September 12th, 2009 around 7:30am.

So many people in Phoenix drive as if they are Super-Heroes, when they really aren't, we have these crashes quite often.

At the end of summer, at Kierland Commons, I watched a grandmother take photos of her progeny playing amongst the ever popular dancing fountains.

As I was standing there, watching, wishing, an older guy, as he walked by said to me, "We wish we could be doing that too."

I saw these two Segways running down the street. In the lead we see the "Single-handed-soon-to-crash", racing up behind is the "Red-topped-sidewalk-mite."

Don't know much about helicopters, but I can hear Sheriff Joe's coming 45 seconds before I see it, before it flies over my guard shack about three times every day.

On Friday this moron came screaming up behind me and stayed about three feet off my rear bumper for many hundreds of yards. I actually thought he was going to rear-end me. After he passed me and accelerated to around 60mph, 32 blocks later I easily caught up to him stopped at one of Greenway Parkway's timed traffic signals. An idiot endangering us all: Arizona LPN 676ZCP.

I spotted this, construction worker crossing Scottsdale Road at Greenway Parkway proudly wearing his rooster look-at-me hair-do. If anyone tells him what a goof he looks like, they don't do it to his face.

I saw this the other day on the drive to work. This would be fine if it were 1920 in Chicago, but in the 21st Century this kind of thing is illegal on probably a dozen counts. You don't really think the County Health Inspectors inspect these wheeled-salmonella buckets? Who also don't possess a business license or, most important of all, collect sales tax.

While the comical Arizona Republic newspaper lists the results of health inspections at food servers who pay thousands of dollars a month in rent alone, these guys, because they are the favored 'migrants' push their carts under any and all radar.

Here is one of the latest vehicles from Chyrsler, and although too early to have been designed by the Kill-American-Life communists in Washington, D.C. I'm sure they approve of this butt-ugly pregant Caliber-looking thing called the Journey.

Like I've been telling you my neighborhood has more cops than most have fire hydrants. And that is a good thing.

Every time a helicopter flies close enough to my gatehouse to be able to be clearly captured on my sub-compact pocket camera, I leap out of the air-conditioned confines of my office and snap a picture.

If you look at the guy in the rear window, he looks like he's taking a photo of me, while I'm taking a photo of him. It's not easy being a dead ringer for Tom Selleck.

You know times are tough when the 'Repo-man' is repoed hisself.

I got another photo of one of these unlicensed gasoline engine-powered motorbikes.

The engine appears to be off of some sort of powered hand tool with the final output a tiny wheel that pushes against the rear tire. It's not loud at all and if the engine doesn't apply enough power on the uphills, the rider has the option to add his pedal power.

With Obama's plans on Cap & Trade, with its imaginary limits on unmeasurable emissions of carbon dioxide, and his belief that gasoline should be selling at more than $4 a gallon ($1.06 per liter) anyone making less than around $30,000 a year (£18,400) will for certain be riding one of these.

I heard this beast a dozen minutes before I saw it. At first, having a flash-back from all the Vietnam War movies I've seen, I thought it was a HUEY coming in to rescue me, the last survivor at our forward lookout point, but when the HUEY didn't show, I went back to work killing gooks.

I'll have to look this peculiar and quite-large beast up in my Jane's Aircraft Recognition Guide, and the closest helicopter it resembles is Bell AH-1 SuperCobra. (8/24/2009...one of my son's has informed me that it is a brand new 'model Z' of the AH-1)

Just what you need flying over your city, eh? Right, if you're in Afghanistan.

Coming in the back way to my apartment complex Thursday night, as I pulled around front and into my covered parking space (that the drunken illegal alien decided not to use) I saw two Phoenix police cars and four officers talking to one of my neighbors and took this photo at 800asa. Thank God for the cops.

And this time, when they left, they even switched the rolling gate back on, meaning it closed after they drove off. Being a gate guard, I'm concerned about things like that; that and whether living in my car, it would be more comfortable to sleep upright in the front seat, or sleep laying down crunched-up in the back seat with my hand wrapped around my Browning .380 auto.

Here is today's idiot. Of course I'm fairly sure the driver was an illegal alien and they aren't intelligent enough to be even called an idiot.

In any case while the traffic light was turning yellow, on its was to red this moron cut in front of me right before the intersection, right when I might have accelerated to 'make the light' resulting in an collision. Illegals, gotta love 'em. There isn't a place in Phoenix that isn't better off because of illegals.

I saw this little yellow thing coming at me the other morning. It took me a while to figure out it's a hot dog vendor cart that can be unfolded when it gets to its destination. They've been using this in India for decades. As America descends further into federally-driven destitution, many more of these will be seen. We'll all end up selling hot-dogs to each other. What fun. Pass the mustard.

While Mr. Wonderful is chronically griping about everything and everyone, I am not blind to how very, very fortunate I am.

As we passed this wheelchair-bound fellow, the dash outside temperature gauge read 108F (42.2C) degrees.

Saw these two extremely attractive Prius's on the way home the other morning. The one on the left is an earlier model, while the right-hand one is a later version. Course the newer Prius driver had to show us how much faster his car with a 144 pound (65k), $5,000 battery was than the older version.

Neither of this nitwits realize that there is no country that comes close to our level of restricting auto exhaust emissions, and that there are hundreds of millions of vehicles in India and China, of which the tailpipe exhaust of only one negates the efforts of twenty Prius drivers. And then we have our own illegal aliens careening around in decades-old unregulated minivans that pollute 100 or more times than a single Prius.

Brandy was tail-gating me many blocks northbound on Cave Creek Road, and then we came to the right turn onto Greenway (just 'Greenway', no 'Dr', no 'Blvd', no 'Parkway') which I took at my normal pace. After my turn, looking into my rear view mirror I saw this VW EOS, no longer tail-gating, but about eight car-lengths behind my Chevy POS.

Of course, then she had to fly by me once on Greenway Parkway, only to end up at the next traffic signal, as I knew she would. Brandy, "Any moron can tail gate, you need to learn to drive in other than a straight line."

Billy-Bob always a-feared to be trapped upside down in his truck and drowning in one of the many lakes inside the city of Phoenix. Or being burnt to a pork-rind if he dun rolled his chariot on the way home from the Wagon Wheel and it caught on fire, so he jess yanked them doors off-on his ride so that he'd be flung free of the vehicle in any kind of traffic altercation.

With all those 'flamethrowers' on his roof, I'd guess this guy does a lot of work at night, eh?

Didn't even think a VW could pull a trailer.

The other afternoon as I was leaving my apartments, I saw this odd sight. I had my camera settings wrong, so the photo is just a little too bright. But this adult meth-head (or maybe he's on the starvation-life extension diet) appears to be carrying a huge box full of stuff on his really cool bicycle.

My daughter, who has experience with these addicts, told me that this box may be full of worthless items, personal worthless items, that this meth-head, in his messed-up thinking, will be worth massive dollars to someone. Somewhere.

On Cave Creek Road, south of Bell Road on Sunday, August 9th, at approximately 11:19:21 hours, I witnessed the officer in the police car behind the red truck waiting for backup.

The taillights you see to the far left in the photo is his backup officer arriving, at which point the officer got out and approached the red truck. Later, as I drove home, I saw a Phoenix Police Tahoe also racing to the scene.

Things are never boring when you live amongst the illegal aliens, meth-heads, felons on parole and security guards.

Just to prove that I'm not entirely scared of all members of the order coleoptera, here is a June Bug (fig beetle) on my finger. I found him on his back in the 105F degree (40.5C) heat. I brought him into my office and revived him and set him free again.

When we were kids we always knew, even without the National Weather Service's 'Excessive Heat Warnings' when summer was here because it brought out the June bugs.

On the wall is a palo verde borer beetle that chews the roots of palo verdes and various other desert trees. Like it's not hard enough to survive in the less-than-six-inches-of-rain-a-year-desert already.

Derobrachus geminatus  grows from 3 to 4 inches (8 to 10 cm) long, and while frightful looking in repose, these beasties in flight, coming at you with their 6" plus wingspan, look like ravenous vampire bats, only without their cute little mammalian pointy-teeth bat-smile.

With day-time August temperatures in here in Phoenix, Arizona not even hitting 105F degrees, and nighttime temps dropping into the low 80's, I wasn't surprised the other afternoon when I poured filtered tap water into the funnel stuck in my custom, one-off, 'Mr.Wonderful Signature Series' re-fillable water bottle and it came out the small end frozen.

Most of us fear the all seeing omnipresent photo-radar guardians of Phoenix, however I seriously doubt whoever is driving this Ford Expedition worries much.

Trying to ignore the racket of the usual ghetto bird as accompaniment, I was outside taking some photos of books this 113F degree afternoon. Then I heard the loudspeaker begin booming as if God were talking to me, however, when I looked up I saw the police helicopter audio barrage was not directed towards me. I went outside onto Cave Creek Road and took multiple photos that will be soon be available  for viewing. In the meantime I left my barrio to go visit a Bank of America branch safely located 5 miles to the east, and witnessed this Phoenix police car, 'lights & siren', blowing the red light at Cactus Road & 24th Street. I believe he was headed towards my very own ghetto.

Having been in the electrical industry from 1966 until 1991 I could never understand a business having the name of 'M.R.' Electric.

I remember the first electrician who showed up at my gate in an MR Electric van. I asked him why anyone would name a company 'Mental Retard Electric', he really didn't seem to appreciate the question. Then again, maybe I should have spoken slower?

A welcome to Phoenix, Arizona via the Scottsdale police department.

Once you know what bee swarming looks like you can spot them in an instant. Here I got into my car after work and my headlights lit up this blob of bees. Apparently they weren't 'killer bees' since i got pretty darned close and did not get attacked. Of course I held my breath the whole time.

I know police departments have to sell their old vehicles, but how many dodos out there would pull over if this ex-police car signaled to do so?

Here's another idiot (or possible serial rapist or killer) in his 'Black & White' ex-police car. He drove like he was a real policeman so I let him pass me so I could take this picture. The dolt doesn't realize that the major cities in Arizona haven't used 'Black & Whites' since Broderick Crawford starred in the TV series, 'Highway Patrol'.

It is gawdamned hot here in Phoenix, Arizona. Today it was 112F (44.5C) degrees. It's so hot the birds simply give up on flying and land and sometimes die. I find many more dead avians on my summer patrols than during any other season.

Here you can see a hot quail mom with her two young chicks beneath her just giving up and sitting on the asphalt next to the fire-department-red painted curb at 9pm. I think they usually hatch around eight to twelve, so the other birds and the evil roadrunners probably ate these two brothers and sisters popping them into their mouths like we eat Milk Duds.

Actually, this is not 'today's' idiot, but last week's idiot shown today. This moron was cutting across all three lanes in order to get ahead of everyone else so he or she could have the privilege of being first in line to merge onto the always-constipated Squaw Peak freeway south.

Of course the dolt will never understand that the traffic lights are timed to encourage morons like him to drive the speed limit.

Okay, fine he's not naked, but this motorcycle rider might as well be if he falls riding his scooter. And even Evan can fall.

For those of you who don't believe Arizona is rapidly becoming a part of Mexico, here we have an unabashed Mexican taxi. Not Mexican-American, but Mexican.

A not often told story of three vehicles: An H2 Hummer, a Smart4Two and a minivan.

Ever wonder who pulls down all those advertisements for garage sales and get-rich quick signs posted on utility poles? The Road(side) Warrior does.

No recession over at The Candy Store (where, I'm told, at least one recent graduate of Scottsdale Christian Academy seems to always end up dancing at) on the corner of Cave Creek Road & Union Hills. There was a time, when this location was far north of Phoenix, an ancient age when the city limits ended at Bell Road which is two miles (in the direction of the camera holder) south of here.

Couldn't figure out what all the hub bub was about, and then I found it.

This lady was pretty hard to miss.

Don't know how this came about. Maybe the truck driver picks up powerchair riders whose chairs run out of juice or something. The cripple in the back doesn't seem to be too happy to be in the shot. Oops, I meant to write, 'the differently-abled person in the back', excuse me.

I've had several people I've worked with die. When you're in the security guard business, sometimes it's pretty hard to tell whether they've died or they are just pausing extra-long before answering a question.

In any case here you can see ectoplasm between the red dots. It's probably one of my passed-away co-workers checking to see if he's won the lottery yet or if I saw where he left his pack of Marlboro's.

People who are not members of the high-IQ-club wonder what we blessed few think of, or notice of, so much, so often, that keeps our minds buzzing every waking minute so that we sometimes seek to slow the informational input with drugs, or alcohol, or consenting sex with large-breasted, red-headed women (preferably all three at once), so here is just one tiny thing I noticed the other day and became concerned about.

So we peons can't drive the vehicles we want to purchase and drive President Obama wishes gasoline was $4.00 a gallon. Nevermind that while on a single dinner date to New York City with the 'Shaved Ape' he burns more fuel than the average American peon will consume over the next decade, even at $4.00 a gallon. And then we've got the whole Global Warming fraud.

Here he is seen with his bodyguard and one of his byatches, outside of the Greenway Parkway Safeway Store, drumming up some extra dough.

(* I doubt it, because law enforcement in Arizona are usually pretty right-wing themselves.)

I knew the bill collectors would start calling. I am wondering what they think I'm going to tell them, "Oh I have the money I just don't want to pay my credit card statement. I like looking at the large balances in my checking account?"

Hell, guess what Wells Fargo did to me? Several months ago they finally realized my shaky financial predicament, so they offered to 'help' me by doubling or tripling or quintipling the interest rate on my VISA balance. So guess who I stopped paying first?

Geeze, they loan out $300,000 to people who don't speak a word of English and have no verifiable income and then they come after me for $6,000? The only card company who didn't jack with me is American Express and they are the only one I intend to pay off in full...too bad it's for a balance transfer that bought a Dell laptop that we threw away six months after we bought it when it burnt up. But what the hell, it was only $3,500.

Whew! Got carried away there. In any case today's photo is of my cell phone and the ridiculous number of times Bill Collector "0" calls. I set up the number as "0" in my contacts memory along with no ring and now, since I can't get to "0" in my list of contacts (try it, try to get to a contact named "0" on your phone) I cannot answer their calls to tell them to quit calling.

I think that's what it was saying.

Hell, over at Desert Ridge one of the armed, bad-ass security guards over there would have been sure to clip the tail-end of this luxo-car with the front end of his Detroit-born H3 Hummer. Hard to do that with the Segways they use at the Kierland Commons. (By the way, "Anyone wanna buy a car company? Or two?")

When I had my electrical business, we sold a manure-pot full of inventory to an outfit that went by the name 'Korral Kool'. What they came up with was a misting system to keep cows cool during the harsh southwest summers.

It's only fitting that these days shopping centers like Kierland Commons, use them to cool the two legged cows that we've most all become.

To understand how dry the faux Scottsdale climate is, while standing directly under these misters, outside NoRTH restaurant (a place where I couldn't afford a side of sautéed spinach) to take this photo, I did not get a single drop of water on me.

There's all kind of ruckus about a UFO filmed over a Russian field, but you don't have to go all the way around the world to see them.

Here I've got yet another photo of a UFO seen as the white tear-drop shape in the middle of the photograph. It was odd that it would only appear in the black and white photo spectrum. Some skeptics would say this is the reflection of a light fixture on a window. But that's the skeptics for you.

Going south on State Route 51 (aka: The Pee-on-the-street Freeway) the other day, we spotted this BMW 2002 that probably dated back to 1974. Before I was married. Back when I was happy <grin>.

Earlier that day at Desert Ridge we also saw this 2008 BMW Z-4 hardtop. My how things change.

You know how you drive a rental car in a strange city and that alone gives you license to drive like a moron?

This white PT Cruiser (designed by my nephew Bryan Nesbitt) pulled off the northbound SR51 (Squaw Peak) and immediately swerved from the sidewalk lane to the inside lane causing your Mr.Wonderful to hit his brakes so hard I began skidding.

I've photographed so many of these UFOs, I'm beginning to feel like Whitley Strieber, the nutcase writer who communicates with extraterrestrials more than most husbands talk to their wives.

Here you can see the military helicopters, on the left an RAH-66 Comanche, I believe, and to the right, a UH-60 Blackhawk, seemingly escorting the rectangle-shaped UFO. I had this picture authenticated by the M.W. photo labs here in Phoenix, Arizona, so I know what I photographed was what I saw.

Again and again on the news I hear that gas prices are averaging well above $2 a gallon.

Why are we not seeing those prices here in Arizona where every gallon of gasoline is either trucked or piped in?

What the hell is going on? It appears someone is attempting to make things seem worse than they are. It certainly seems that way, as I've now seen gasoline priced at $1.79 a gallon on April 28th, 2009 which is equal to .4729 cents per liter.

. . . And, I think Pam's hormone shots have gotten out of hand.

Note, that he's not expecting a ride, since he's walking against traffic.

It didn't take us long to decipher what they said. Obviously engineered by the long lost Hohokam Native American Tribe, even though they had lasted centuries, the next time we went by them some anal-port had destroyed their intricate structure, and they were lost for eternity.

While Government Motors is trying to build an battery vehicle that Al Gore and all the Greenies approve of

Yankee Ingenuity builds her own mode of transportation, one that would cheerfully crush the absurd PUMA-Steven-Hawkins-transport device.

If you're gifted and a flamboyant wheelchair star, what do you do? You become a "dynamic advertiser" on the side of some street and make the big bucks.

When I first saw this, I thought "No way! The person isn't even moving." But then, after I circled the block to get another photo, I was thinking maybe it wasn't such an off-the-wall idea. It got me to come back.

You're thinking, "Must be nice." These people are just like you and me pal. Except with more money. A lot more money. And two or three months off work each year. And, usually more personal problems than you can shake a ball bat at. Personal problems fertilized by ... money, lots of money. But I imagine Obama has an answer for that too.

Here you can see her working her tail off on Cave Creek Road in Phoenix, Arizona.

I finally jerked into a left turn lane to allow the MF to scoot pass and then pulled behind him as I reached for my Smith & Wesson .40 auto. But then I remembered my 18 month old grandson was with me, and this might be a little soon for 'The Beast' to see what havoc old grand dad can visit on morons.

In any case I felt much relieved when these guys went by. Never did find where the Glendale bowling alley where I hung with Marty Robbins in the early 1960s went to. Wonder what ever happened with that idea I had about a cowboy falling in love with a Mexican girl?

However, if the person driving this vehicle is in the country illegally and works at one of Mac McGruder's McDonald's, (or another one of our traitor-citizen who feels obligated to hire minorities only from other countries so that he can pay them less than everyday U.S. citizens and provide zero benefits, treat them like garbage, and work them like greyhounds at the track) then it's just fine and dandy.

With President Obama having fired Rick Wagoner, the former CEO of General Motors, (soon to be known as Government Motors), I'd guess the engineers at the company, eager to show the ex-community organizer, now Car-Commissar Obama, how close they are to manufacturing a viable electric car, they rushed this proto-type Pontiac into testing.

I don't think it's any coincidence that the vehicle is green, either.

And of course in the midst of this relative wealth we can find the bums hiding less than 100 yards away. It is certainly my fault that these men are forced to live like feral animals. I wish I could take time out of my 64 hour work-week as a security officer to help them. Oddly enough, come 100F degree weather, these sad sacks will somehow migrate to a cooler climate. Thank God.

My friend Tim advised me it is an Arlen Ness modified Victory brand motorcycle, the Victory Vision Tour Premium model.

Arizona License Plate Number AAV3188

In any case, when you're honest enough with yourself to admit that you don't belong on a two-wheeled motorcycle, you move to a tricycle. This is a 'Hogg' brand and is powered by a choice of Chevrolet V-8 engines, hence, probably the fastest vehicle on the street at any time.