The Flip-Flop Clad Douche Bag Cometh

Summer, the season previously known as Spring, spreads its golden wings over the city as Apollo stirs from his cloudy slumbers. And once again the quiet path beside the Charles river suddenly becomes a hazardous speedway of skinhead rollerbladers and gaunt, sweaty cyclists jostling for athletic supremacy. An Esplanade? Yes, Boston has one of those, but it's more of a gladiatorial arena where wheeled assailants achieve terminal velocity and innocent pinickers are fed to the extreme frisbee players. I ask you, is it really necessary to wear extra baggy, knee-length shorts and smoke a cigar while skateboarding over the park benches?

Comments

[pierce]

wow. how do you even face the world every morning?

sorry we were using your private zen garden as a public recreation space

[stephenesque]

It is indeed very hard to face the world each morning. Thank you for your concern.
And you are more than welcome to use my private zen garden for recreation purposes, as long as you don't race around at a million miles per hour knocking people over.

[pierce]

or dress in a manner that you don't like

[stephenesque]

Well, I suppose you can wear what you like too. But the cigar must go.