I got tagged today. No, really, I was walking down the street and a guy came up to me with a Sharpie, and wrote something on my head. When I tried to protest that he was invading my personal space, he wrote something else.
When I stopped off for coffee, I saw the markings of my ink-happy assailant on the barista and several of the patrons.
GRUMPY was scrawled on the boy who handed me a cup of latte. PIMPLES was also written across his cheek. I thought it best not to ask him to read my tags in case he wanted me to reciprocate.
I couldn't find anyone with less insulting tags, so I looked in the side mirror of a car that had ROAD-HOGGING DEATH MACHINE spray-painted on it and saw what the psycho thought of me.
It read ETTENURB in block letters. Not even a note of my new blonde highlights! Dismayed, I saw I'd been given a mustache of ink, which appeared to spell out YSOIN.
Ysoin? I'll give him Ysoin!
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
I Love The Smell Of Marker In The Morning
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