If knowledge about Batman was profitable, I would be driving around in a pretty fancy rocket car.

My walk home this afternoon was lovely and sunny and, dare I say it, warm-ish.  I almost wasn’t even completely out of my mind with rage when I stepped in the remnants of a broken jar of preserves on the sidewalk, on the fucking sidewalk, really, come on!  The sticky mess was smack in front of the barrier around the still empty lot where all the bars used to be.  You know, the bars some assbag developers tore down to make room for—nothing!  An as yet unplanned waste of goddamn space!  That’s great.  Oh, and in case you were wondering, that awesome tag?  Still there:

Way to withstand the elements, totally inappropriate graffitti!

Comments

[Primus]

Bars come and go, but whore tags are forever?

[Amy]

That is all kinds of true.