In sickness and in stealth
Day One: attempt to die of unknown stomach ailment (currently assumed to be food poisoning). Fail miserably. Day Two: Attempt recovery. Most of said 'attempt' involved the regular ingestion of aspirin to make my body believe that its true temperature was closer to 98.6°F than 101.2°F.
Blame it on the aspirin, or the fact that it was Christmas Eve and Jeff was still queasy and needed quiet. No matter the cause, I know the effect: I took the camera and went rice-hunting.Though, honestly, is it really "hunting" when all you have to do is a quick drive-by around the back of the mall? That's along the lines of shooting fish in a barrel and calling yourself a master fisherman.
It's not hard. Drive around the back of the mall. Like the old Magic Eye pictures, the best thing to do is to stare at nothing in particular, and the riced vehicles snap right into focus. More specifically, once you know what to look for, they're impossible not to see.
So what, in sickness and stealth, did I see? Quite possibly the thickest concentration of ricers found at the mall on any given day, ever.
I try not to be seen. I park quickly, snap photos, giggle madly, and am off again. The entire process rarely takes more than two minutes. I don't take photos of cars whose drivers are present or nearby. I really don't think my pointing and laughing at their 'ride' will do much for prolonging my life.
Speaking of prolonging, let's talk about agony. The owner of this black Accord seems to be an expert on this agony thing. How about not bolting on a wing the size of Manhattan, sir?
I'm also beginning to think there's a special ratio that I should mention more often: tail pipe should NOT be larger in diameter than brake light. Period. I can't prove that the universe hinges on this rule, but I'm starting to think it should.
Speaking of enormous wings, there's a reward for the first caller who can explain what the owner of this Audi was thinking. I regret that we don't have a better shot of the Monaco-sized wing on the back, but Danielle was faced with a tough shot in heavy traffic, and the fact that she got a shot of this quality is to be applauded. I do wish we could have gotten a shot of the peeling decals on the hood of the car, though...it was not to be missed.
We also regret to inform the owner of this red Grand Am that his windshield wipers are a crime against humanity and must be confiscated immediately.
Next up, for more generalized crimes of hubris and snickerage, a car whose license plate I'm not even going to block out (though, for search engine purposes, I'm not going to spell it out here and I ask that you do not either). I've had many reactions to riced-out cars, but never before have I actually felt that I would wet myself while laughing.
After all, this red Mitsubishi is 2 dangerous, and I should stay back.
For those who are brave enough to stay ahead of this red beastie, there's a nice message helpfully printed in reverse.
Mostly, I'm just McFeared at the appalling amount of free cash this young fellow seems to have on his hands. You'd think he could afford better than McFood.
Lastly...I present the greatest rice crime against humanity that I've ever seen in Huntsville. Sean has been telling me about this car for quite some time, and I just had to see it for myself to understand its sheer, awful power.
I've seen lots of things on cars. But 'Girl Power'? Girl, whoever you are, that ain't power, that's a corresponding excess of fundage and total lack of taste.
This car's got it all. Literally. On the back you've got all the standard ricer accessories: wing, body kit, spray-painted chicken wire, uni-wiper, decals, wing, and extra-speshul taillights. There are supposedly-spiffy wheels, superfluous body kits, and more decals than you can legally shake a stick at:
Need inspiration? You can get it from the back windshield. Lest you forget about the whole girl-power statement, it's right above the gas tank:
They were somewhat kind, though. Amidst all the horribly painful pink window tinting, the windshield provides information on who perpetrated this monstrosity. Now I know who to avoid from now on. Wouldn't want to accidentally give them money:
Remember: ricers, like recreational pot smokers, are secretly funding the terrorists. They must be stopped!