Signs

Jesus Christ!

Rich people are so fucking rich!

All shall yield!!!!

Punks

THE FUCK IS THIS??????

It's fucking chalk!

Powdered chalk!

Obviously a rhetorical statement, unlikely to mean "Your Best Friend."

What shit!
Is there a new gang on Education Hill?
A gang of petty chalk thieves who are hesitant to ascend from mischief to actual vandalism, yet have no problem representing their set with hasty, improvised scribbles, which can totally be fine tuned on the fucking free-wall at the skate park?

Parents of the Hill,
YOU ARE RAISING A CROP OF LAZY, CALLOW, BITCH-ASS PUNKS!

If your part-time-thug, little pricks were to step over these letters and continue 1.8 miles down the trail, they'd likely get their chubby butts brutally beaten, and sodomized with pickets salvaged from city council, elections signs, by the feral children of the trailer park in "Little Mexico" (Police term) who run up and down Avondale barefoot, playing with fire and broken glass all day.

-Neighbor out.

Daylight Savings

Well here's a picture I took at 5:20pm, on the first shit jog, of the first shit day, of our dark, shit winter.

The new street lamp, at the 110th crossing, seems to be doing it's job well.  

Unlike some area rich people who shit in my streets.  

Set your clocks back.

-Neighbor out.

The Power of Action

This is the narrow opening to the trail on the west side of 104th.

These are called Bollards, and they're used to obstruct motor vehicles.

When a vehicle needs to access the trail, the bollard in the middle is unlocked and removed.

This one looks locked, but it's actually not.

These boats belong to a guy who figured out how to remove the unlocked bollard (around 9:45pm last wednesday night) in the dark.

This is Seafair weekend.

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This is a $15 lock which you can get at Home Depot.  

Enjoy your beloved Seafair, Guy Who Parks His Boats On The Trail.

-Neighbor out. 

Horses

Jogging the straightaway along 111th, I was about to be overtaken by the RJH Girls' Cross-Country Team, when I realized, it wasn't the girls' cross-country team, it was four, chatty women on four horses. 

If a horse wants to pass me on the trail, that's fine.  

I feel it's fitting; 

they're pretty fucking fast.

However, horse ladies can fuck off.  

Especially, The Four Horsewomen of the Aspergers Spectrum.

Gandhi would be open to sharing the trail.  Jesus would be open to sharing the trail.

I am open to sharing the trail.

When I'm sharing the trail with a cyclist, the cyclist might ring a bell or say, "On your left."

It takes less than three seconds to pass and they never leave the lingering odor of shit.

Apparently, privileged, horse-riding royalty speak a different language.   

"Weep weep!  Weep weep!" chirped the lead horse's mistress.  

Too tired to demand more than Mouth Horn, I moved right and grazed along the foliage at the shoulder of the narrow trail.  

My refusal to trample through a patch of mud, in my lane, had me halt and the second and third horses passed.

I jogged around the mud and the fourth approached.  

"Can I pass you?" asked the 4th rider.

"Of course, just don't make me run in the mud."

I then ran through fucking mud.

"He thinks you're a monster," she told me.

WHAT THE FUCK?????

I'd like to presume that if this were one of those talking horses, and as he passed, he looked over to say, "I think... you're a fucking monster!"  - I'd LIKE to presume - his rider would say, "Speckles! That's rude!!!!!"

However, when a horse is speaking THROUGH privileged, horse-riding royalty, apparently, it's no holds barred.

You can't blame a horse for being a fucking idiot, but you are allowed to keep it secret. 

Horses, as creatures, are magestic, yo. 

Horses, as tokens of affluence, leave me puzzled and disappointed.  

Mouth Horns and Insults from high atop a horse?

That shit is idiomatic! 

Granted, I don't think a horse would have a better home if under the provisions of a member from the burdened class, but I'd root for the underdog, for sure.  

Yesterday, when I was jogging down to Farrel Mcwhirter Park, I had my friend take a picture of this poster.  

The atrocity!!!!

Oh My!!!  A Bandito!!!!!

"Hispanic type?" 

Fucking Really?

This poster is a bit ambiguous in describing the incident, but it reads to me as if the kid involved cut his teeth on a ranch in Hispanic Land.  

Ranchers might come off a little brash when they encounter large animals.  

Chalk him up as a monster.

-Neighbor out.