It's been almost three weeks since I've arrived in Florida, and I have to say - it's not so bad here. Obviously, it can go without saying that I've run into a couple of minor Florida moments while here:
A lady in the grocery store line told me I could stand closer to her because she lacked any fear of COVID, based on her scientific reasoning of, "having Jesus." Not five minutes later, the cashier asked if it were possible to "overdose on Kombucha." To be fair, that one's on me. It's what I get for purchasing a beta beverage like Kombucha at a Winn Dixie in northern Florida. Other than that, though, things have been pretty laid back.
Since arriving, I've tried to spend most of my weekends lounging on the beach. It's unlocked a level of zen I previously thought was impossible: I can now say I've softened my stance on hating Jeep Thing People. I've come to recognize the additional benefits to Jeep's other than the incredible gas mileage and 60 MPH top speed.
Being the uncultured swine that I am, I've grown accustomed to witnessing stock Jeep Wranglers in a strictly suburban setting. Hitting a curb is the closest thing to off-roading those Jeep's will ever see. And even though getting stopped at a traffic light while driving a Jeep in Florida would feel similar to sitting in hell's lobby, I have to admit they make general sense for beach towns.
So I'm sorry, Jeep Thing Community. For years, I've disrespected the sense of community you've built based on a vehicle, your bumper stickers, that stupid fucking wave, and really your entire culture. Were most of those criticisms deserved? Probably, but had someone alerted me of the trend known as the Truck Squatting (Palatka lean/Carolina Squat/Cali Lean), things would have been different. I know I can't take back what I've said, but maybe I can right some wrongs and find some common ground via shitting on squatter culture.
I became aware of these disfigured trucks after spending a skin cancer amount of time at the beach. In between swimming in the ocean, forgetting to lotion the tops of my feet, and catching COVID from other beachgoers, I found myself studying the different vehicles passing by.
For those of you unaware, many Florida coastlines have entrances for vehicles to drive and park on the beach. Typically, you’ll see your large groups of Jeeps, trucks, SUVs, and other four-wheel-drive cars. Then, there’s my personal favorite; The vacationers with an aggressive dad who was cocksure their rented Camry would be sufficient for driving on sand, only to find himself stuck and in an argument that will more than likely spark the inevitable divorce. If you’ve never watched the last family vacation transpire, you’re missing out. The good news is that those kids will have 2 Christmas’s’s’s from here on out - so there’s that.
As I continued to lay and ignore the warning signs that my back was burning at an alarming rate, I noticed one unfamiliar group of vehicles. It was almost as if these people ran out of money halfway through lifting their trucks. The front was raised while the back of the truck sat annoyingly low. This created the “squat/lean” look that the name implies.
To help you better envision; It was as though these trucks were angled specifically for sun gazing enthusiasts...As if the appearance of the truck purposefully resembled the silhouette of a female dog pissing. Their Truck Nutz dragging in the sand made them easily trackable. God bless any unlucky vermin whose death came in the form of a brutal t-bag.
Still can’t envision it? You know what…Why don’t I show you some pictures:
When I first laid eyes on this genre of vehicle, I figured the lean had a purpose for off-roading. I'm not a truck guy, but maybe a lower backside creates some sort of leverage while cruising on the beach.
This, as I soon discovered, was not the case. Besides the future divorcees in the Camry, the squatted truck was the vehicle most likely to get stuck.
"Why," I thought, "would you pay to make a truck useless? Are these people complete morons?"
Once I left the beach, I quickly forgot about the squatters. I had bigger things to worry about - like how to rub Aloe Vera on my entire back without anyone's help. It wasn't until about a week later when I drove to the local gas station that I was reminded of these crippled trucks. As I walked out of the BP, a group of 9 obnoxious squatters ripped into the parking lot. Two pulled up to the gas pumps while the other seven aggressively backed into the remaining parking spots. (Aggressively will be a word used throughout this).
I was dumbfounded - literally frozen in mid-stride. My eyes couldn't look away from what was happening. I watched in awe as these unfortunate COVID survivors struggled to fit between the lines of the parking spaces - presumably caused by blindness after years of staring directly into the sun.
Then, in an almost poetic way, one of the truck's booming tailpipes scared the fuck out of a man and his pug as they cut through the parking lot. I couldn't help but feel as though I had witnessed Florida's live version of a Michelangelo Sistine Chapel painting.
"Was this really happening?" I thought. I rubbed my eyes in complete disbelief, but when I opened them, nine half lifted trucks with oversized, aggressively chromed out rims and skinny tires were staring right back.
See, I drive a Honda Fit, so I don't have much room to talk, but it still took every last ounce of restraint to not let out a cackle. Mother always taught me that it's impolite to laugh at others in public. Besides, maybe this was just the 'in' thing at the Sylvan Learning Center they attended.
No matter how much I held it down, though, I couldn't help but laugh right there in the open. It wasn't even in the "I'm going to give you a cocksucker laugh to show you that I think I'm better than you" way. It was more of a "When's Chance The Rapper going to come out and tell me I just got Punk'd in a Quibi?" type of laugh.
I mean, how could I not? They're literally Jeep people with an extra chromosome. It was almost as if a Trump 2020 sticker procreated with Tom Hank's son, Chet, and their offspring came in the form of a squatted truck.
“HEY BIGLEYS, why do you have to say Trump 2020 sticker? What about the libtards?”
Listen, I hate all political stickers equally, I’ve already written about this. If Chet fucked a Feel the Bern sticker, it’d be a Honda Civic with a spoiler. Happy? Can you go back to drinking out of your “liberal tears” coffee mug and let me get back to my story?
I say this with all seriousness; their trucks resembled the love child of a confederate flag and a 1988 Chevrolet Caprice on 22-inch rims...A real Romeo & Juliet love tale.
After finally collecting myself, I got into my car, drove away, and tried keeping a positive mindset on everything I had just witnessed. There was no way this squat had no purpose, right? I had to know, so I immediately Googled it when I got home. What I found quickly re-tanked my hopes for society:
I fucking knew it…These people were morons! It's as if God took Hitler's meth addiction, Aaron Hernandez'z CTE, Al Capone's syphilis, Zuckerberg's charm, Vanilla Ice's sense of style, and the leaning tower of Pisa's engineering team, put them in a blender, turned it into a smoothie, drank the puree, puked into the head of an incomplete person because His sloppy ass couldn't make it to the toilet, and pressed send so He didn't have to clean up His mess the next morning...
...That child then found himself in the womb of his mother, next to a twin brother. The only problem was that his parents couldn't afford two children - everybody knew that - but they only had enough cash for a single abortion. "Any specials going on?" they asked. Unfortunately for them, the 2 for 1 was last week, so they paid for a single and left the decision to the doctor. Fifty-fifty chance, right? Wrong! Society hit double zero on the roulette table of life, and the squatter survived...
...Later in his life, he and his parents took a trip to Florida, where his dad insisted driving the Camry onto the beach. After getting stuck, the two parents exploded into a screaming match, and in the heat of the moment, the young squatter's father yelled, "I wish we would have just asked my parents for the extra money, aborted both kids, and gone our separate ways!"...
...Things were tough for Young Squat after that. Sure, he got two Christmas's's out of the deal, but the trauma of the moment produced a devastating stutter. In hopes of a solution, his parents would send him to a Sylvan Learning Center after school. There he met his two closest friends, Leanin' Larry and Methew Jones....
...Early on, they would be assigned a group art project requiring the boys to draw a representation of themselves and their friendship. This is when the first-ever blueprint for a squatted truck was born. The large rims and skinny tires symbolized the bad decisions Methew Jones made when he was tweaking. The lean was an ode to Leanin' Larry's severe leg length discrepancy. And the half lift kit reflected the time Young Squats parent's ran out of money and only completed half the job. From that point on, the world would never be the same...
...Hypothetically speaking. This is just my opinion on the origin of the squat. I don't have any facts to back this, but I digress.
Refocus
So now the question remains: Where do we go from here? I used to be a firm believer that the government has no place in censoring the internet. I thought that no one could be trusted with that kind of power. Still, I had to ask myself: Do I want my future, accidental children to live in a world where these people have a public platform to dispense degenerative information like truck squatting openly? Even if they can't read - there are still pictures.
Unfortunately, with all that's going on in the US, this will more than likely be put on the back burner. As soon as we do solve racism, COVID, and maybe even who killed Epstein, I urge you to write to your senator about this concerning trend. One measly article by itself won't change anything. But if we continue to ignore it, the blindspot of America will only rival that of a squatted truck.
**Special thanks to my sponsor Calvin Pissing LLC. and Choke On Smoke Diesel Inc. You guys are the best**