This is a deep category, but my vote goes to St. Clair West, specifically between Keele and Young. This street is fucking clown shoes. Half of it is under construction, the other half should be. The lane markers are like suggestions that nobody follows, due to their being fainter than an Irish ghost. One particular half-block of buffoonery had the center streetcar track under construction, as well as the far lanes on BOTH SIDES OF THE ROAD undergoing work. This left drivers with roughly eight inches of room on either side to squeeze their vehicles through. It was three inches more than I needed with my Echo, but how in the world do city buses get down that street? Do they? Have there been a steady stream of buses disappearing into potholes like the popcorn truck going down Springfield's Main Street? I don't know what cause St. Clair is the patron saint of, but it sure isn't calm driving.
The best street in the city is Lawrence. Good lanes, little congestion, but my vote is mostly based on the legitimately gorgeous woman in the car behind me. I almost did an actual spit-take while glancing in my rearview mirror during a red light. Imagine a combination of Sarah Shahi and 1993-caliber Teri Hatcher. And, even better, she was clearly eye-fucking the shit out of me. I mean, she was staring straight ahead...at the sexy back of my head, no doubt, or perhaps the even sexier back of my seat headrest. And when I put on my sunglasses when the sun moved out from behind a cloud, she PUT ON HER SUNGLASSES TOO. We call this the ol' miming trick in the flirt business, folks. Sadly, she turned left on Allen Road and drove out of my life, never to be seen again. This is what I get for not following The Hardy Boys' Detective Handbook's advice on always noticing license plate numbers. I could've hacked a Ministry of Transportation site, discovered her phone number, called her up.....okay, yeah, I see where this could be considered creepy. This is why Frank Hardy is currently serving four years for sexual assault. Not straight-arrow Joe; after his beloved Iola was car-bombed in the first of the Hardy Boys' Casefiles series, Joe turned to his best chum Chet Morton for comfort. Let's just say that the solution to the Mystery of Pirates' Cove ended up being 'booty.'
I used the 'capitalize words for comic effect' gag twice in one entry. I am a POOR WRITER.
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