I love this Fox Chase lady who refused to break the news to her son that his car was teetering on the edge of a Port Richmond sinkhole because he was down in Clearwooder at Spring Training. Mother of the Year type stuff:

That lady is an absolute saint. Not wanting to bother your son that his white Mazda 3 (chick car btw) is about to be eaten by the streets of Philadelphia because he’s down at Spring Training is good parenting. That car is a Monday problem. He’ll call his insurance when he’s back in Philly sunburnt and hungover. How many more opportunities are you going to get to drink beers with your boys at Frenchy’s and watch Cristopher Sanchez shove? I don’t know, but I know it’s finite.

I mean if you called me on vacation to tell me my car was in a sinkhole and this was the picture you sent me I’d hate you:

Get a tow, back it up a little, and let me enjoy the Phightins. It’s been one of the coldest winters we’ve had in a decade. We’ve gotten a ton of snow. Can’t I just enjoy drinking out of a couple beer bats and watching Aidan Miller? Is that too much to ask before I have to go back to a life of responsibility and sinkholes trying to kill me. And listen to the people in the background with the “not my car” every five seconds. If I had to go home to neighbors like that I’d never leave. We get it. You survived this long. Count your days though. They happen out of nowhere:

That’s insane. That’s all because a water pipe broke?


Good news it looks like the perfectly clean Mazda 3 was saved:

What is up with the sinkholes in this city lately? I feel like we get a story every couple of days that one had a SEPTA bus for breakfast. Remember this giant a couple months ago?

Am I just going to be driving around one day and become the Earth’s food? Clean it up. Every single road in this city is closed for construction. What’re they doing down there? I’ll deal with the potholes if you promise me I won’t perish in the fires of sinkhole hell.