Live.to.the.point.of.tears - Fuck you, Hilton Hotel.

I spend 50% of my day writing books, 25% of my day thinking about what I'm going to eat next, 12% of my day chilling with my dog, 8% of my day bitching, 3% of my day drinking wine, and 2% of my day lamenting the fact that I'll never have abs like Marisa Miller. That might not even add up to 100%, I don't know, I don't really like math.

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Fuck you, Hilton Hotel.

I went over to Fox Sports Grill at the East Village Hilton to watch a few hours of football. The hotel is brand new and there is literally nothing else around it. The only place to park to go to Fox Sports Grill is the Hilton’s parking structure. I go to validate my parking ticket with Fox Sport Grill as I’m leaving and they tell me they don’t validate because they “aren’t affiliated” with the Hilton. Except that they are in the same building. And there is no other fucking place to park. Literally. Not like you can park down the street and walk. I explain this to the hostess and she leans in like she’s going to tell me a good secret and says, “Buuuut … you can go to the Starbucks in the hotel and get a drink and then they’ll validate.” Buy a $3.75 latte and save $4 off parking, THEY SHOULD GIVE YOU THE NOBEL PRIZE.

The shitty salad and iced tea I had at Fox Sports Grill cost $18 and parking at the Hilton cost $20, so basically it cost me just under $40 to watch the Chargers COMPLETE INABILITY TO SCORE IN THE GODDAMN RED ZONE, AGAIN. FUCK.

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