Pimp My Ride

Erica and I are forever talking about how great it would be if someone would pimpify the Goldifox, and we've found what we want: driving downtown one day, an old white boat of a car was next to us, with gold rims, and every square inch was covered in the Louis Vuitton logo. Could there be anything better? Sadly, neither of us had our cameras.

We heard Mascott at our local punk-rock Starbucks, which caused us to call Kendall and squeal like crazy people, and Erica asked the question of the century ("Do ants sleep?") while we sat on the smoking porch, making up convos ("Dude, where'd we park?") for the army of ants marching across the ground.