Happy Belated Crash Day (or April Fool's Day II)!

"Oh, you shouldn't have..."

I can't believe I forgot it was Crash Day until late Crash Day evening. But since my racist boss refused to give me Crash Day off, I was too busy to remember. And apparently, God (or Xenu?) hates Crash Day, because today was an especially dreary, rainy day in a city usually known for its glorious, sunny weather and rampant, in-your-face racism.

And He's (It's?) not the only one who hates Crash Day... some (irony-loving) Grinchy protestors actually tried to crash the Crash Day festivities! Who were these Crash Day Scrooges? Gays upset that Crash "stole" Brokeback Mountain's "rightful" Oscar (not to mention its DVD thunder, since Lionsgate released the Crash Director's Cut Edition (now with 10% more condescension simplicity stereotypes Oscar-winning brilliance!) on the same day as Brokeback hit Wal-Mart shelves)? Minorities upset that every stereotype of them was confirmed in the movie? Whites upset that a Salvadoran Puerto Rican Mexican-American was Mayor and not locksmith? Psychlos sent by Terl upset that a Scientologist was spreading the truth about thetans? Moviegoers With Taste upset that such a heavy-handed, schlocky, fetid movie was being feted by the city? Angelenos upset that our mayor thinks that "Yes, this is our Los Angeles"?

Uh, no. They were just some "union members seeking a new contract with the city." Probably Italian.

Anyway, I didn't let these racist union members rain on my Crash Day celebrations (I was powerless to stop God (Xenu?) from doing same)! Actually, the rain helped as I managed to get into three car accidents (thank you God (Xenu?)!)... all caused by Asian women drivers, natch. Then I got carjacked by a pair of African-Americans who told me that not all African-Americans are car-jackers. Some of them are drug addicts. Then I called them both the N-word. Surprisingly, they didn't take it nearly as well as Don Cheadle did when William Fichtner called him that. Then I shot three little Mexican girls (two of them with blanks). I put on a cop uniform and molested a woman (I think she was African-American, though she was pretty light-skinned). Finally, I shoved a rich white woman down the stairs so her maid could teach her that racism is wrong.

So, pretty much like any other day in Los Angeles.

How'd you celebrate Crash Day?