- How to stream Real Madrid vs. Real Valladolid Friday 10:44 PM
- How to stream Liverpool vs. Arsenal Friday 10:28 PM
- How to stream Manchester United vs. Crystal Palace Friday 10:05 PM
- How to stream Chelsea vs. Norwich City Friday 8:55 PM
- How to stream the 2019-20 Serie A season Friday 8:05 PM
- Tom Brady keeps supplying us with new meme material Friday 5:55 PM
- Emails reveal Facebook’s knowledge of Cambridge Analytica Friday 3:43 PM
- ‘Fast and Furious’ + ‘American Ninja Warrior’ = Netflix’s ‘Hyperdrive’ Friday 3:15 PM
- Trump jokes drop in Dow is because Seth Moulton dropped out of 2020 race Friday 3:13 PM
- What we learned when we visited Mr. B, America’s chonkiest cat Friday 1:46 PM
- Trump’s new plan to fight opioid overdose? This tweet Friday 1:06 PM
- Fitness influencer shamed for ‘sharing numbers’ in weight loss posts Friday 1:04 PM
- The VSCO Girl has always been here Friday 1:01 PM
- Tomi Lahren’s new ‘Freedom’ clothing line is made for meme mockery Friday 12:21 PM
- Taylor Swift’s ‘London Boy’ is a bop, but Brits don’t think her lyrics are accurate Friday 12:02 PM
Busted by police, alleged car thief busts a move to Future
Where ya at??
Where ya at, woman of my dreams?
I saw you Wednesday night in downtown L.A. It was around East 8th Street, and your gold Ford Fusion had been stopped by the police. You were wearing a black T-shirt and black shorts. There was a magic glow about you, though, as the blue and red lights bounced off your skin. I feel like you’re the type of person who won’t get bogged down by a sticky situation—even as your car sat useless there, tires shorn from spikes on the road, you danced to Future (feat. Drake) and celebrated your free spirit.
I was too far away to say anything to you, and you were whisked away too quickly. Maybe you noticed me—I was in the sky, shining the spotlight on you from my propeller-powered perch. If only they had let me hold the megaphone for once, I could have shouted my digits your way.
On the off-chance you see this, I want you to know that you didn’t just allegedly steal a car Wednesday night. You also stole my heart.
Feliks Garcia was a reporter and essayist whose work for the Daily Dot focused on social justice issues, internet culture, and the Rock. He was a staff writer for the Independent when he passed away in February 2017 after suffering a heart attack. He was 33.