I'm not going to lie.
Seeing a license plate on the 101 that said "I HEART MY ABS" on the way home from the airport didn't exactly help my image of Los Angeles.
"Oh, Jesus. No," I say.
"What?" Asked Matt.
"I heart my abs," I say, "Right there."
Matt starts suddenly and violently snorting until I say, "I heart stabbing you," and he responds, "I heart hating you."
And we both cackle and continue to not-amuse our driver, who was being kind of a dick anyway.