Waldo is at the mechanic if you look real hard.

Here's how my day went:

1. Planned to leave for lunch.

2. Went to car.

3. Started car.

That's where it ends really. Because:

1. My car wouldn't start.

2. Then I locked the keys in my car.

3. Then I banged my head a few hundred times.

4. I called a tow truck to get the keys out, and to jumpstart the car.

5. And paid a mechanic 300 bucks for a new starter, all the while missing about 3 hours of work.

So, what would you do while sitting in a stinky mechanics? Sure, they had a few Time magazines I've already read. I had to concept a little. And then I saw it. That's right folks, Where's Waldo?

Take a look at the original ones again. It's so damn easy. I found Waldo in a matter of seconds. I felt like a motherfucking genius. Because I remember a time when I'd spend a good deal of time on each page, frustrated, confused, thinking maybe there's a mistake on this page because I can't find this damn dude with a striped shirt and cane. That was when I was like 10ish. Now, at the ripe old age of 27, my eyes filled with contacts and brain filled with the ability to find things, I was like Sherlock Holmes with my search for Waldo.

Mensa, here I come!